I try not to complain too much on bartblog. Not much point in it, cause I want you to like reading. But I just got home from an experience that doesn’t quite make sense. I’m sure this will get back to Adam, the new owner, through the bartblogosphere, so I guess maybe I want it too.
I play in a rec men’s volleyball league here in the village. It’s not too serious, and most of us are not too good. And it’s fun. We played especially hard tonight, so a few of us headed up town to the local establishment for a cold one and some conversation afterward. (After I stopped at home and rocked Zoey to sleep first, that is).
It was nice, until the bartender suddenly cranked up the music so loud that we couldn’t even hear each other anymore. After a while she asked us if it was too loud, and we said yes. And she smiled and walked away. And didn’t turn it down. Go figure.
So we left. Earlier than we would have otherwise.
…There. Now I’m done whining.
[The new owners are working hard to make a go of it, and to make it a fun place to hang out. I really appreciate that and wish them all the best. And we’ll keep spending some money there. Just saying.]