“Isolation is a self-defeating dream.” Carlos Salinas de Gotari
*CRSKT* The sound of the bartender opening a rare bottle of beer as it glugged into a pint glass. A pale Caucasian girl with tattoos and a punk rock t-shirt was snapping pictures of her beer against the wood-paneled back wall to share on social media. She returned back to her table of irregular regulars and banal conversation. The door creaked open and a couple of twenty-somethings entered the bar as if they were Norm Peterson from Cheers. They weren't doing anything to bother me, but fuck were they fucking annoying the piss out of me.
“Am I that out of it?” . In my mid 20s, I was in a beer club in Buffalo. Outside of Labatt Blue, I was really getting into craft beer right when it was picking up nationally. More breweries were opening in Western New York and I joined up with the Western New York Beer Club. It started at a now-defunct bar in Buffalo, WJ Morrisey’s. The founder, Jason, worked nearby. Morrisey’s was an “Irish” bar that was trying to gain a following outside of happenings at HSBC Arena (Key Bank Arena in 2020). Utilizing social media in the early days and word of mouth we would hold beer events such as tastings. It was fun to be on the vanguard of something new. There would be events where we could pour beers without real licensing and make new acquaintances and spread the craft beer gospel.
Halfway through my beer, it started making more sense. Their offense wasn't their youthful exuberance. It was I felt they were invading my quiet space. As we age, the bar means different things. When you first get your first Red Bull vodka wings in your early 20s, you're usually out with a few friends and maybe looking to get laid, especially in college. Doused in Tommy Hilfiger aftershave, fresh button-down Abercrombie shirt and a few pregame beers and shots, the average college-aged male was in a sticky-floored club thumping of pop dance hits. I didn't want to be there, but it felt like that was the thing to do, especially if a girl I was into said that she was going to be down on Chippewa with her friends. I smartened up, as I retreated into the more peaceful dive bar. The dive bar was a controlled chaos my mind could understand. It could pick up with people but the vibe of the place was more demure. Except Frizzy's or the Old Pink on Allen St. Dive bars, yes. Quiet, no. You could still have a few beers and a steak sandwich and meet someone.
After meeting someone and getting older, the bar became more of a place to relax. There would be a game on the TV and there is probably a few beers to try and enjoy the company of others. After going to a bar long enough, you talk to the regulars and become a regular yourself. Now in my mid 30s, I'm enjoying this stage of being a bar patron. I can go to the bar and expect a certain level of ambiance, except one night a week, which isn't even a weekend night. To me, it was a culture clash. The youthful exuberance of the beer club and my already surly self. I'm not built for groups, I like smaller and more intimate exchanges.
Now, after two months of a quarantine order, I have had more than enough time to rethink my position. I still feel resolute about what I just wrote. The NHL just released a new playoff format involving 24 teams as opposed to the traditional 16 team format. Consensus says I should be happy for hockey to come back. I'm not happy, my team missed out on a spot and they had two games in hand. Not only that, my connection to the season is over. I've been without hockey for 2 months, so for me, the season was over. Will I watch the new playoff format, yeah sure, if nothing else is on. It's going to be the same way with bars for me. There's probably a handful that I've really missed over these months. One has been open just selling beers. Time will tell if bars become raucous with people that have been cooped up for months, I'll probably shy away. It's like being too old for amateur hour events like St. Patrick's Day and the first few weeks bar open. I don't have the taste for it anymore...struggling to find a place to sit or even exist and wait for drinks. I proved to myself that I can go without.
Good, bad or indifferent, I hope people have learned something from the COVID-19 experience. I hope that people have learned what they will and will not tolerate. Safe to say that I was on auto-pilot going to work everyday, taking public transportation and coming home to head to the bar. Maybe eat something that may not be the best for me and go to bed. Lather, rinse and repeat. To some extent, I'd like to return to that normal. I like going into an office, meeting up with my friend for lunch and head to the bar with the fiancee. On the other hand, it was rather unhealthy. We were spending more than we'd like on beer and take-out.
That's changed over the past few months and I like it.
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