Sittin' at the End of the Bar
My local watering hole resonates with soft jazz and the voices of strangers in live conversation. The windows facing the street are steamy from the fight between the desperate internal air conditioner and the humid end of July outside. A little summer rain begins to break the heat and the windows start to clear up. There’s something about this place. Brick walls. Old wood. A nostalgic nod to the 70s. Even the bartender curls her hair to suit the lost period. It’s hard to say exactly why I like it. Maybe it’s that I stumbled upon it as it just opened when I was still slinging cocktails down the street. Maybe it’s the fond memories of drunken nights fucking in both bathrooms downstairs with former coworkers and clients. Or, maybe it’s that this bar isn’t flashy, it’s close and convenient. After all, I am a creature of habit.
Been coming here for three years now. Always a mug of beer, sometimes a whiskey, but (almost) never a cocktail. As a former bartender, I find cocktails overpriced and pretentious while masking the taste of the liquor (I know it’s what they’re generally supposed to do). Granted, a martini or an old fashioned once in a while does hit the spot. Plus, who am I to judge what other people like? I did enjoy making cocktails though. The craft was fun and the milieu of the bar was even better. It’s a great social environment filled with the everpresent promise of adventure. So, I ask myself–What happened? What happened to my favourite watering hole (I really like this term and I use it semi-ironically)? I used to be greeted with hugs by all the bartenders, slipped free drinks, and engaged with conversation. Now, it’s a cold hello, here’s your usual, and then avoiding eye contact until my glass is empty.
I have the tragic luck of making people dislike me over time. Since I was little. Nearly all the schools I moved to, and there were many (at least 15), I’d start off making some friends and then things would turn to shit. In other words, they’d get to know me. For a long time, I thought something must be wrong with me. I’d say something off-colour or make a joke that didn’t land well or make someone uncomfortable with my bluntness. I’ve also been told I’m very annoying. Both by people who love me and those who don’t. Social norms and conventions never felt comfortable for me. I’d always push the envelope to see how much I could get away with. That to me, felt like freedom. A little breathing room. For what? To be weird. All this to say, something is wrong with me. Only recently, I was diagnosed with ADHD as an adult and honestly it's helped explain a lot. I don’t want it to excuse anything. Nor do I want to be “normal” (and I don’t think that’s really possible for me anyhow). But I do want to know what my quirks are so I can play them more gracefully to my advantage. It’s not all bad. I can be quite charming, funny, and caring–I’m told–at least when I’m not annoying, awkward, inappropriate, or inconsiderate. But hell, I’m working on it.
Despite it all, I’m still here today. On a hot and sweaty summer afternoon, having a mug (and it’s not a pint, it’s smaller) of the house lager. Am I being obstinate? I mean, I haven’t been told outright that I’m not welcome but I’m hyper aware of body language and I can tell when I’m not liked. But with ADHD also comes uncertainty and not trusting myself, so unless I’m told directly, there’s always the “What if I’m wrong?” After all, I’m not normal so maybe I’m not reading this right. So, why do I keep coming back here? Does a normal person just cut their losses and find a new place to become a regular? Am I hoping that if I persist, they might just change their minds? Or, maybe I’m bothered by not knowing the why. Why did they change their attitude toward me? Did I offend one of them? All of them? Is it a conspiracy? Or, am I just too lazy and scared of change to try a new place? It’s probably a mix of all these things. In the past, I would have asked point blank, putting people on the spot and making them uncomfortable (and people don’t usually want to tell you they don’t like you and why). But I’ve worked to stop doing things like that and be kinder and more graceful. So, I just come in, mind my business, drink my drink, and enjoy the atmosphere of my favourite bar.
