Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Happy Hour Chronicles, No. 12: The Home Stretch

We're down to the last couple weeks with my hand on the happy hour tiller, for now at least, so I'm going to give you a break from my usual spouting off about things other than the happy hour. When MAK and I took on our current interim assignment, I was just hopeful that we could somehow engineer at least one event that suggested the event's excellent tradition. It took eleven weeks, but I think that last week finally hit the mark.

It reminded me that happy hour is not about the drinks consumed, the things broken, the keg stands, the upended couches, the juvenile wrestling matches, or the eggs, frozen vegetables, or birthday cakes tossed. No, it's about being in a situation in which you might reasonably open a door and be faced with Pulp Fiction's "Gimp."* I want to thank each of you who traveled near and far to H Street, NE, last week to remind me of what's important. The only things missing were a keg and a Winnebago.

Thanks especially to the new folks who made an appearance. The award for most distance traveled goes to J--the proprietress of J-Two-O--who drove 300 miles to join us. I hope we met her expectations as to our immaturity.

For our final happy hour before Dave P's temporary return, please stop by this Friday, March 26, at the Iron Horse Tap Room, located at 507 Seventh Street, NW, between the Gallery Place and Archives Metro stations. No food, excellent beer, and I'm not sure about the Gimp situation. We'll start at 6:30.

* I should add that this scene kind of freaked me out. I use it here, as it was in the movie, as a metaphor for the strange places and events that are just under this city's barely normal surface.

7 comments:

J. said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
J. said...

"happy hour is not about the drinks consumed, the things broken, the keg stands, the upended couches, the juvenile wrestling matches, or the eggs, frozen vegetables, or birthday cakes tossed"

I want a refund.

Kidding! Though next time I want to see a keg stand. And there will be a next time. (After all, JJV, Powa, and Dave P. were not there, so my set of Happy Hour trophies is not complete.)

Thanks to all who were in attendance last Friday for welcoming me and the HH hospitality. I had a blast.

EMM said...

I should be able to make it this week. Am on a HH roll!

jwe said...

Other items of memory: the fight party, the naked party, saltine wars, crashing a party (that table with dishes on it fell by itself). A beer called Trouble. Finally, witnessing the "spirit of the bridal veil" dance was a right of passage.

Raise a toast to all these happy memories.

JWT said...

JWE--I'm not sure I recall the naked party, unless you mean the Mark B. birthday party when we crashed the pool. In that case, because it was a single-gender thing, I'd call it the naked party of shame. I also broke a rib climbing over that fence--all the more shame.

EMM said...

Ouch...my eye! I'm feeling the pain all over again from the saltines (and cornbread)!

JWE, you are missed my friend, we'd love to have you here in DC for a HH soon!

Cheers!

jwe said...

Thanks, EMM.

JWT, This was actually a naked party of equal shame, where a dear colleague of ours suggested we do an upside-down-tap-hit (not on an RV or at Fessenden or a wedding in Des Moines, but in a NW DC basement) to get everyone into "party mode".

We failed to launch party mode and quickly refilled our cups and moved-on.

Later two random guys (not us) walked out of the party naked.

I'm glad my kids won't be reading this blog anytime soon.