by goatlove

Guirl_Gooch mushrooms
There’s some sort of magic that really does happen after one pint of a really good beer has been consumed – the kind of beer that hits your tongue in just the right places. I am there.

I’ll bet you didn’t know this about me, but I’ve become quite shy in these later years. I didn’t use to be. God no. I used to be the life of the party. In some cases I’m sure I was the party, for better or worse. But of late I’ve become quite comfortable with my body at home. Which is why it was, honestly, difficult for me to leave the house this evening to go get a (freakin’!) beer at the Liberty bar.

I will actually change my route in order to not intercept someone I may or may not have to hold a conversation, or eye contact, with.

But tonight I found my old self – my true self, as I still think of it – and I faired just fine, thank you very much. I sidled up to the bar as if I’d been sidling up to bars all my life, which, in fact, I have been.
It was a delight, seeing old friends I never see even though they live two doors down. Meeting new people I’ve never met even though I edit articles about them in the newspaper every two weeks.

I’d say it was a success. And even though Plinko failed me and I had to pay full price for my happy hour beverage, I think it should happen more often.