Two of the three owners of the brewery were there tonight. They got drunk and asked me about New Jersey. A guy from Minneapolis asked how long of a drive it was to the beach. I found myself telling him about the Jersey shore instead. He wanted so badly to know what there was to do around here, not knowing that for a Tuesday night, pool and local beer was nothing to complain about. The owners left for another bar-- "For Scotch!"-- and I said, "Come back with all your clothes on, it's cold out there," which solidified their love for me. One of them returned in five minutes with a young woman and they took over the Minneapolis guy's pool game. As my night was ending, a woman called to make a Comedy reservation and had a Jersey area code. New Jersey, stop contacting me! I'll be home soon enough.
The host stand is starting to feel like my own place, especially when the restaurant is nearly empty and I end up watching the reflections of television in the windows and talking to servers I thought I didn't really like, but do.
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