A Place of Comfort…

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A navy bench lines the wall with a chalk board of half erased cocktails and what’s “on tap” … covering the green and yellow wall.  The bank it once was only remembered, in the now as a game room complete with barred doors, a deadbolt and a dartboard at the end of the room.  In 1926 the vault held treasures, gold, wills, and secrets of plenty.

Stories whirl around me and I listen without listening.  Ease dropping, people would hate and enjoy the ridiculousness of their topics. Girls giggle and coo and a young man sits at at the same table texting and looking around the entirety of the bar. He looks bored but continues to listen as if he really cares.

A couple dines, what seems to be a Thursday night date. They eat, drink a beer, wine, food, napkins on laps and then breeze back through the ding of the door without saying goodbye.

The men behind the bar are bearded and sexy.  One, with slicked hair, with what looks to be a curling iron burn on his forehead (which can’t be right, in my mind), it goes on. He has a mustache for miles curled up in just the right way it looks to be cradling his nostrils just beyond his face.

Three in vests holding to a fashion piece in their closest but I think this maybe their only piece. But hey, does any man need more than one statement piece?  A suit jacket makes anything look good and a vest and tie looks good with any bottom…. maybe not whitey-tighties or boxers but the right lady, would love it!!

Oh, another shows up and waits behind the counter in a tweed vest, backed with maroon polyester running from here to there, douting on any person who waves their hand in the air.  Clearing menus, regurgitating the nightly specials, and running with plates at his shoulder like a marathoner without the number on his shirt but only the 100 meters and shorter – table to table, back and forth, back and forth.

Kindness, gentle, and a black paisley tie runs down the V of the owner’s vest, maybe needs his neck-hair trimmed…. the beard is very Duck Dynasty but somehow fits him.  It’s rugged and sexy.  Rough waves have knocked him to his knees lately but not to the ground.  How is that men can take so much more of an emotional mental beating than women? Are women not built to be as equipped? Quick to respond or just built from different materials?? Are men just better at hiding it??

Women are completely built to handle what men can, I say.  Strength is something I will not argue.  Sometimes it comes down to men being men.  I would like to be tough and rugged but I am not.  I am determined and committed to complete any task but can’t handle what most men can…honestly, no.  I am frank and I am honest about this.  I am who I am.

However, I would like to give a big shout out to four women: JMM, Utah, DJ, and BH.  These women can move mountains and if you put any of these women against any normal man…in a certain setting – ANY of these women would do some serious damage to any part of their body.

I know if anyone came after my kids, I do not know what I would be capable of. I would probably surprise myself! I would be kickin’ some serious shit. Woman, defending spawn.

This place, I have written four times now with the same people behind the bar. The same hi-backed chair, the same copper bar top, and the same “me” sitting at the end corner of the bar with a laptop.

I write well here, there is no explanation. Is it the ambiance? Maybe the way I show up? It’s quiet and then very loud as the hours pass. Expecting nothing but the blank computer screen in front of me?

Who knows, but I keep coming back to this place that I find comfort, people that I would say are “my tribe” and an evening of observing people.  Or at least, feeling comfort with my “words,” in this moment with these friends and another few moments pass as the minutes’ hand circles the clock on the wall.

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