Wednesday, March 24th, 2010
Day three of 'try things out Grant's way' and this walking and not driving thing is turning out for the good, methinks.
Been watching this family + helpers + neighbors work on their front yard each time I walk by. They're not exactly moving at warp speed, but they got all the grass moved out, put a fountain in and hooked it up to a water line and have the walkway to their front door done.
The air smells good. I don't know the names of the trees or the flowers that I can smell, but I know which blocks smell more alive than others. You really notice it most when the wind blows down the numbered streets at each intersection on Taylor. The wind always comes up this time of year just as the sun starts its descent.
Jack's was pretty alive today too. Aimee B. was behind the bar and wore black in such a way that it made me think funeral fashion, or the impossible fusion of Goth and Rockabilly styles. More precisely: black half-sleeve Jack Daniels t-shirt, tattoos, bluejeans and a black flower in her hair to set it all off just right. Fucking awesome.
Tables 1, 3 and 5 --I number the tables that run along the back wall now 'cause it makes it easier to remember stuff-- were occupied, two men at each. There were about eight people sitting at the bar, for a total of fourteen + the bartender and myself.
Of these, seven faces I recognized, the rest I did not. Oh, and Holly. Can't forget her. ;)
Holly made friends at the bar today with a gal who came in with Sergio. I like Sergio because not only is his hair so straight and black that you can get away with calling it "Raven Black", but because he looks a whole hell of a lot like Robert Trujillo from Metallica. Also fills in a Vikings jersey like a linebacker.
I sat between Christian and Laser man and it wasn't long before the subject of what to eat for dinner came up. This topic broadened to what to do with the rest of the evening.
The idea was put forth to go to San Francisco on the CalTrain, then figure out what to eat for dinner after disembarking.
When the question of where to go and eat in SF was asked, Julius' Castle (now closed, if Yelp is to be believed) and The Stinking Rose (of the sort of garlic insanity that would test the metal of a native Gilroy garlic fanatic) were suggested.
One bar patron put forth that the last time he'd gone to SF, they simply asked the cabbie to find them the best Chinese restaurant and take them there, and that's what happened. Total hole in the wall place and totally awesome food.
Gabby has had a run of bad luck and is on bike number four, the last three having been stolen. She showed me the lock her dad got for her and her new bike: burnished metal the color of brass, thick, rectangular and heavy. Her friend said that's the kind of lock they use on the anchor chains for Navy ships. Here's hoping #4 lasts.
Not much of my beer left when I came back in. Wes had to go and Jessica along with Holly not long after. Mark and Grady came in a bit later and I remember how when I shook Grady's hand while standing next to him he sort of pulled me towards him as part of the handshake. That dude is solid like a brick wall. Have to remember to stand firm next time.
Speaking of handshakes, I always notice how rough Travis' hands are when we shake hands. He has hands like my dad's: rough and caloused, with thick skin, as though he were always wearing a pair of gloves. This blog needs more Travis and I'm gonna have to sit him down so he can tell me the story of his hands: what work did he do that made them so rough? Those hands have followed Travis half way around the world and that's something worth writing about.
Between Grady and Travis sat Katy. Katy is the kind of woman that plays Dave Brubek so loud you can hear it out front of the bar when she pulls up to the curb, even if her windows are rolled up. I've run into her three times now (though I've seen, but not met, her plenty of times before at Jack's). She's yet another person I ought to get to know better.
They say men are visual creatures. See it, chase it, kill it. See it, jump on it, try to hump it. That sort of thing.
Caveman instincts aside, there's something to seeing an object or person later in the day and comparing it against similar from earlier in the day as part of the male-mind-catalog process.
For example, today at work there were a few holdovers from spring break still on campus. Of these, some were women -athletes, I'm guessing- who wore shorts and rode their bikes along the arcing paths on campus, gliding by like swans on the water.
At the bar, one of the women wore shorts and sat on a bar stool. When she walked, she moved as gracefully as the bike riders. On a bike, I imagine she'd outshine all those athletes.
Mark's birthday tomorrow. Happy birthday dude! Don't forget to yell "FOUR!!!" before you fire off a shot downrange.
And that's another day done at Jack's Bar & Lounge. See you Thursday around sunset, Dear Reader.