Broken Vows

Phil and I vowed not to drink during the day while in Nashville.

In an attempt to be mature; in an attempt to survive.

We quickly broke that vow.

We were relaxing in the room on Saturday afternoon when housekeeping showed up to freshen up the room. It was 3 o'clock.

In unison we said "Time to check out the rooftop bar." Where the hell did you think we would go? The Nashville Public Library?

The hotel had a rooftop bar, and a bar just off the lobby, to provide easy access to alcohol. Which is critical.

The bartender in the rooftop bar was a goddess. Not for her physical attributes, but for her generous pours. I tried to behave somewhat and drink beer, but I'm not much of a fan of beer these days.

I drank only premium whiskey, and oh my god was she generous with the servings. Delightful.

So we ended up in the bar at 3 o'clock on a Saturday afternoon.

Not our fault.

Again on Sunday we were forced to break our vow. Because of THE PATS game. We decided to watch the game in the relative quiet of the first floor hotel bar. Since the game was at 7:20 (Nashville time) we were forced to take one last run at Broadway - at 4 o'clock.

We hit four bars before heading back for the game. We were primed and ready.

Our decision proved to be prescient. The hotel bar was quiet. We got great seats at the bar right in front of the TV. Ate good food, drank good booze (although I started with an ice water, which was quite necessary after the Final Tour of Broadway) and became the bartenders best friend. His name was Josh.

I bought my ticket to heaven in that bar for 20 bucks.

Josh told us he worked two full time jobs to pay for his kids schooling, but he was super psyched because after that night he was taking two weeks off. It was a slow night for him, not many people - until he started to close the bar at 10 o'clock. Then of course a bunch of people walked in.

I recognized the anguish on his face because I have been there before. It is a weird deal, because you have had a slow night, didn't make much money and at the very end of the night you get a chance to make a few bucks.

But you are human - you just want to go home - especially if you are staring down a 2 week vacation.

He was a pro. He waited on everybody politely, absorbed the blows when they asked for a second round and he explained that the bar was closed. Then he flew through his closing routine, which included lugging bottles of booze in plastic tubs to a closet, where they were locked up.

I stopped him on the way back from one trip to the closet and handed him $20. This was on top of the tip we already included in our check. Thanked him for his service, explained my empathy having been there before, and wished him a peaceful and enjoyable vacation. He thanked me sincerely.

And Jesus smiled.

Anyway, we started drinking at 4 o'clock on Sunday afternoon. We only had two days to "not drink in the afternoon" and we drank early on both days.

Again. Not our fault.