The Night Went Great

A long week, a perfect ending. Rachel made Swedish meatballs. Yes there was the lingonberry jelly. And bedtime was great. Last night I was eating popcorn and Sadie, 5 yrs, said “do you like that popcorn, Dows it taste like it was made by a professional?? Cause, I made that popcorn.”

Tonight didn’t have the same one liners but it still was beautiful. And Martin said he would pick me up for a couple drinks at Burger Dive.

Walking in, perfect amount of people. Twenty-four people. Table of olds, table of charming young women who are living it up at karaoke and instagramming the whole thing. One ruggedly attractive dude out with them on girls night. A couple couples at the bar, a couple groups of three of four. Wolves on the TV, don’t have to ask for it. no tv showing the Wild even though it’s a hockey town in a hockey state.

One really good singer delivering the goods on Daniel Caesar, Bobby Caldwell, a sad song and Digital Underground. He knew his audience I’ll say that. The girls were singing along with every word. A West 7th celebrity.

We ran into Mona Quinones because of course we did. Because it’s the first cold bar night of the new winter. There’s something graceful about the new winter. Everyone is pretending like it’s cold when in three months this won’t constitute shorts weather per se, but there’s no way you’re wearing a jacket and a hoodie. Newwinter lays down its strictures:

• whatever the fuck is in your car now stays unless you need it

• The hoodie isn’t changing, so it’s up to the wearer if the shirt beneath it is, and how can you check anyway you can’t do leave me alone

• Yes of course you’re going in the store while your gas pumps, there is no alternative

What a treat.