whiskey sours can be nice
| | So I went to go see my cousin Austin play tonight.
Of course he ended up not actually playing, but that's sort of irrelevant. Apparently this dive bar/grill place off the river (don't ask me which one, no one seemed to be able to answer that question and the river was... less than fifty yards away), has a blues jam all Tuesday and Sunday nights. It was pretty cool, totally a place Frank would dig... or perhaps would have dug. I mean, I've -been- to this bar before, without ever having been there. I knew all the types of people there, from the old bearded drunk guitarist to the skivvy looking biker fellows.
I did learn something fun, if you tip your bartender nicely, they'll pour you free drinks. Including tips I spent 20.00 and received five mixed drinks in return.
Nice, eh?
I hung out with Nikki, Austin's girlfriend. And it left me in a quandary. On one hand, she's very good for him, without her he'd be in a lot more trouble... like all the fuckin' time. On the other... she's a smart lady and she deserves a better life (a much better life) than she has now. I love my cousin, I love my cousin a lot, but he's two separate people, the drunken high asshole and the loveable scamp. The drunken asshole goes through money like water and is inclined to destroy shit (and hit people), he wrecks cars, and does nothing but be an utter bastard. She told me that she feels trapped and out of options (her parents kicked her out now that she's of age, and her car is totaled so she can't leave). I gave her my number and told her if she needed a place to stay to call me.
I'm not sure if I did right, I know this could blow up quite messily in my face.
But really, I -did- have a good evening.
posted by Amber at 2:32 AM
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