Tonight I decided to go downtown for a change. Seems like I haven’t been out and about in my fair city in quite some time. I hung out with some folks at the Ginger Man, a charming establishment with a long wall of brews. I tried the Bigfoot Ale, which I detested at first, but then grew to, well… endure.

Then I headed over to the next block to Fado, where I heard a U2 cover band was playing. For all intents and purposes, their lead singer was Bono. He looked just like him. He even had all the stage moves, engaging us in wild, rock star antics. They played mostly B-sides, but threw in some of the hits. They were very good.

All the while I was painfully aware of this sea of attractive women, all on someone’s arm or wearing a ring. I always wonder where they were before. When does that window of opportunity occur?

And then there was the waitress. She resembled Juliette from Lost, who, as some may know, is a representative of archetypal hotness  for me. The whole night, she had to squeeze past me on her way to and from the bar. It almost made me cry.