My 'hood gives me options when I feel the need to consume beer in a more public setting than my shadow-infested man-cave.
Last night, I grabbed my book and hoofed it out to one of said options. I plopped my lazy ass in a seat at the bar, ordered a pint, and was all set to drink some beer, eat a burger or whatever, then get some reading done as I forgot about all the things that make my head spin.
That was the plan, anyway. My plans so rarely follow my intentions.
I wasn't planning on being social. I just wanted to get out of the cave. Instead, I ran into some dude at the bar whom I'd met on one of my previous visits. That, in and of itself, was weird. I have an excellent memory for faces, but I'm better at remembering ladies than guys. Go figure.
Next thing I know, I'm snacking on a burger, downing a pint, and spending a hour arguing politics with a bar-acquaintance.
Now, they teach you that it's impolite to bring up religion and politics, for the most part. They're inflammatory topics and best avoided, especially in places where there's alcohol.
So, of course, I love engaging in those topics. My politics shift pretty left (big shock) and my religious views... well, I bet that's easy to work out.
I'm impressed nobody's tried to kick my ass at any drinking establishments yet.
It was a civilized... discussion. It wasn't really an argument, as such, but it was... not a chat. There was a lot of back-and-forth for all the claims that this dude and I agreed on points. I think he just enjoys being Devil's Advocate. I get that, I enjoy that as well.
An unexpected way to spend my dinner hour. Didn't get any reading done, though. Damnit.
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