A couple of weeks ago my folks were in town and stayed with our sweet kid so we could have a night out. The missus wanted to go to Dave and Buster's. I was given first choice
and chose the Roll-n Bar. We hit the bar on a Sunday afternoon. It was smaller then we expected, wonderfully divey with wood-paneled walls. The bar itself had 4 people chatting with the bartender. Almost ever surface has names in chalk, patrons of the bar. The bartender came over to us and asked what we wanted. I had a Southern-Comfort Manhattan, and eventually a second. He poured a nice drink and told us about the owner of the bar, notoriously cheap, the bar shows it. The men's bathroom had a electric hand dryer directly above the sink, slightly concerning with the proximity of electricity to water.
Weeks ago, we went to a friend's favorite bar in the Montrose. It was the first time Zoe went to a bar and what a special trip it was. We all sat outside. By the end of our drinking, a table behind us lit up a pot pipe and started toking up. My spring allergies kept me from noticing and I left unknowing to the what took place. Our friend later commented that the smokers at the bar usually wait for the sun to set before partaking the mary-jane.
Baby's first contact high.