I Don’t Love You, but I Love This Bar.

Being single in your 30s is kind of like being the only female in a seedy dive bar;  you feel a little out of place.  As some drunk guy stumbles out of the unisex bathroom with piss stained jeans, you think to yourself, “Maybe I should be somewhere else in life, somewhere more grown-up, classy and less urine soaked…”

But you love this place;  the smell of stale beer, the smoke, the regulars, the stories they tell, even piss-pants guy;  he has the most creative shot toasts.  I have more intimate conversations with strangers in dive bars than some of my friends have had with their intimate partners.  If I wasn’t single, I wouldn’t be in this dive on a Monday night, reading a book and taking whiskey shots in between chapters.  I wouldn’t have had a fifteen minute conversation about the best brand of staplers with the friendliest, and sometimes wisest, bartender in town (“Swingline” is the brand, in case you were wondering).  I wouldn’t have experienced the euphoria of reaching the 300,000 point bonus on touch screen trivia or the joy of seeing your name by the number 1 spot.

The best of dives can make everyone in the place become close friends for one night…by the power invested in booze.  There is something special about these gritty hole-in-the-wall places;  Character.

I am like a dive bar.  I have been covered in dirt and then bleached out repeatedly.  I have had my fill of dark days.  I have been broken, put back together, cracked and fixed up again.  I have been empty, abandoned and undyingly supported by others.  Much like your favorite local watering hole, this gives me character and character is what makes something interesting.

So cheers to you, fellow 30 something singletons.  Get yourself a drink in a dive sometime.  Remember;  Character is beautiful.


2 thoughts on “I Don’t Love You, but I Love This Bar.

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