I don’t actually fancy the idea of going to a bar. I know that after one of the longest lockdowns in the world we’re supposed to be chomping at the bit to get back out there, but honestly walking past people sat outside pubs just freaks me out.
In spite of myself – and in service of something called the weekend – I go to a bar.
You have to scan a QR code to sign in and access the menu but my phone’s too old to scan it. So with the bartender stood waiting, I get flustered and order the first thing that comes to my plague-year mind: a penicillin. It turns out to be an excellent choice. It turns out I really like being in a bar. It turns out two penicillins are better than one.
After that we go to another place and drink wine and I bump into someone I haven’t seen all year. And after that we go to another place where we know the bartenders and we chat to them and drink whisky. I can’t remember the last time I saw someone I hadn’t planned to. I can’t remember the last time I chatted instead of talked.
What’s nice is the novelty. What’s nice is having a day turn out differently than expected. What’s nice is surprise.
A version of this post was sent by email on the 1st November 2020 as part of Internet Care Package – a weekly memoir project in the form of a newsletter. It also includes links to the best things I’ve found on the internet each week and occasional updates on my theatremaking. This blog is a select archive of those emails. Subscribe to get them right in your inbox.
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