An eve of Christmas past

For the first time in maybe eight years, I sat  down at a bar tonight.  For most of my adult life a drought even eight days long probably would have been unheard of.  I had arrived early to meet my son, daughter and son in law for a Christmas dinner, meeting in a restaurant because we were all going our separate ways for the holiday.

As I pulled the stool back I might have stumbled a little and it created some motion in my peripheral vision.  That sort of vision used to be vital for any foray into a bar in younger days.  And, this time it had not failed me because there on a stool just one empty one removed from mine sat a beautiful young woman who had turned and gave me a bright smile, then turned back to what she was doing.  The old habits of that peripheral vision had not failed me.  I hesitated for a moment thinking I might take the stool right next to her, laughed silently to myself and sat where I had originally planned.

I ordered a single malt on the rocks to sip until my kids showed up and had the first sip of scotch in nine months.  The slight familiar burn and then warmth felt good and, relaxed a bit, I turned to take in the surroundings. 

It was then I discovered just how much my old familiar world had changed.  Where in a past incarnation I might have tried to strike up a conversation with the woman, maybe offer to buy her a drink, that was not going to happen this night and not just because I was probably at least twice her age.  The thing she had turned back to look at was a Smartphone and she was avidly typing in some text.  A couple of stools farther to her right, another nice looking young woman was doing the same.  To my left a young man also was staring into the light of his phone.  Pretty soon I was doing the same, texting my daughter to let her know I had arrived early and had settled in at the bar.  And then of course I had to check email, and why not see who's been on facebook and pretty soon I was as mesmerized with my phone as was everyone else along the bar. The smartphone had taken over what used to be, well, more social.  How does a guy break into that to say "hey, what’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?"

It was such a far cry from times I had spent in other bars at other Christmases.  I liked to wait until the last possible day to shop.  I would go downtown, shop for a while and then head for a favorite bar; in Buffalo it was Jew Murphey's and Anchorage the Club Paris. Both  are or were in the case of Murphy's located in the downtown shopping area in their respective cities. I would wander stores with my list buying things until I couldn't stand it any longer.  At that point I went to the bar.  I had a couple of drinks, enjoyed the atmosphere until I relaxed, then asked the bartender to keep my parcels behind the bar and ventured out again and shopped for a while.

The day would progress like that, shopping in between interludes at the bar.  Toward afternoon as offices let out the places would fill.  At Murphy's, particularly around Christmas, somebody high from an office party would take up the piano and soon enthusiastic song would fill the place.  Club Paris was quieter but with the same sort of crowd.

One year  in early evening Christmas Eve I was sitting next to a woman who also was sipping a drink.  We started talking a little and she said she was having trouble finding something for her father.  She said he lived Outside and  she liked to send him something that said "Alaska."  I wrote down the name of a book of mine and told her to go next door to the book store and buy a copy.  If she didn't like it I would make it right.  To my surprise she did it.  When she came back she showed me the book and asked me what was so special about it.  I said, "How about if I sign it for your father."  She had a proper reaction.  We talked for a bit more and then she thanked me and said she had to leave.  All the while she had a wrapped package on the bar next to her.  She handed it to me and said Merry Christmas.  Later on it turned out to be  a box of matching wine glasses. 

After she left I went shopping again, but I had run out of steam and returned to the bar within an hour, knowing shopping was over for the day.  It being late evening, the bar had filled and I sat down on the only open stool which happened to be next to another woman, this one closer to my own age.  We struck up a conversation and she was lamenting the fact that she couldn't find a nice red sweater for Christmas.  It just so happened I had noticed a display of them on my last tour.  I told her I had seen some in JC Penney right across the street and where they were in the store.  She said she was desperate and would go look.

The bartender laughed at me.  "That's the second one you talked to who ran out of here," he said.

But this one came back.  She was quite happy; she had found a sweater she liked.  She sat down and bought us both drinks.  We talked for some time as the conversation turned personal heading for intimate. Being who I am, I considered, but I could be fairly certain my new wife was not going to appreciate me giving myself this sort of Christmas present.  So, when the woman very seriously invited me to leave with her, well, I declined as graciously as I could, given how sorely tempted I was.  Live to shop another day, I guess.

Thinking back on it now, I have to wonder how that interlude would have gone in the age of smartphones.  Frankly after what I saw tonight, I doubt any of it would have happened. It just doesn't compute.

JUST A SIDE NOTE:  My son is coming here for Christmas dinner.  On the way home I got to thinking about him driving the same route and came to a realization.  Good grief I am the one now who lives over the river and through the woods.  Literally.