Secret Bars and Campfires

Because I have so many new things to write about and so little time to do it in, I will only briefly touch upon these topics. If you want more details, just ask, dudes.

So, on Saturday night I went out to watch the Red Sox and to see if anyone would show up at the bar. For a while it was looking like a dull night, until R. and D.R. showed up. They invited me into their game of pool; I, quite surprsingly to me, kicked both their asses. Woot. Then we headed out to another local bar where the drinking continued. I was traveling with R., which may not have technically been my wisest move. He’s a walking pharmacy, a poster child for any sort of mind-altering experiences. But that’s okay. I’m alive to blog about it.

The final plan was to go to this bar that only a select few people know about, sort of a private club for the owner of yet another local bar. I had never been there but I knew that JetBlue hangs out there so I figured this was the in that I needed to be able to pop in there any time I wanted.

It’s a cozy little place; there were about a half-dozen people there plus us. On the deck they had a small fire going with some borrowed wood from the place next door. So we had a couple of drinks. I helped get some firewood–hey, if you wanna be in you gotta do what you gotta do–and we hung out a while. Because I’m writing thi quick it’s not a very interesting story, but maybe in the future I’ll add on a bit. Maybe.

To cut to the chase: on Saturday afternoon I bought on brand new spring jacket. On Sunday morning it smelled like a campfire. A pleasant smell sure, but not what you’re hoping for in a brand new coat. It smelled a lot like the t-shirt I got from the bologna factory. Mmm…smokey!

Well, that’s all for now. Next up–off-season Hyannis nightlife.

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