Are you a “regular” anyplace? If so, where and why?
Back when I lived in Milwaukee’s East Side, I was a regular at an Irish pub called Paddy’s, just north of North Ave. In fact, when my roommate got married one of the selection criteria for my new apartment was the proximity to this pub. It’s an honest-to-Og American-Irish pub complete with a snug and an ex-cop owner. It looks like it was originally someone’s house, has no neon shamrocks or Guinness marketing crap on the walls, and doesn’t run drink specials for the college crowd, despite its proximity to North Ave. It isn’t even listed in the phone book, and the entrance (through the side) is unadorned with any signage. In fact if you didn’t know it was there you probably wouldn’t find it. Nonetheless, it pulls in a decent crowd, and I spent many an evening there with a book and a pint of Black and Tan or straight Guinness, finishing off with a shot of Jamison in snifter. It was a really nice place, and I miss it more than anything else in Milwaukee.
I also used to have lunch at Apollo, a Greek resturant on Brady, two or three times a week, and chat with the owner. Occasionally, he’d try out a new dish on me, or throw in an appetizer or bowl of egg-lemon-rice soup. It was conveniently located just across from Nomad World Pub, where I’d sometimes spend a Friday evening with friends and admiring the extensive tattoos and piercings of the crowd.
Where I live now (Pasadena), I’m a semi-regular at a bar-and-grill place on Colorado. It’s a relatively generic member of the class, and the food is mostly standard pub fare, but it’s the only place in Pas to get a properly made Black and Tan, the girls all know my name, and I’ve been going there long enough that I’ve seen a twice-over rotation of most of the waitstaff. The earlier bartenders used to “spill” about half of the beers I ordered, but the more recent ones have been charging me for everything. No complaints; it was just kind of nice to get that “extra” service and I tipped extra-heavy for it. I’ll usually head over to Jakes afterward to play some pool.
I’m also a regular at a coffeehouse in West Hollywood (Insomnia) which is just down the street from the revival cinema I go to once or twice a week. Nobody really knows me, though; in typical SunSoCal fashion You Don’t Speak To Anyone You Don’t Know, but it’s often the same people in there, hunched over their laptops and writing The Great American Screenplay. I just sit and read my book and make mental bets on which of them will be the next Francis Coppola or Charlie Kaufman (no, no, and…nope, not you either.)
So, where do you haunt?
Stranger