Drinkin’ Buddy
Thirsty hot, thinking that it would be nice to have a drink, I met Roberto. He stumbled toward me in the brick alleyway behind The Blue Parrot. There aren’t many people who share my aesthetic of drinking, but I could already tell, Roberto was one who did. It seems to me that if you find something that you like then you should spend as much time as possible doing it. Some ambitious young people fail all of their lives to find something that makes them happy. I was fortunate, I guess, to have found my bliss early.
Roberto was a friendly sort, so when I suggested we have a drink, he was very helpful in finding a location. Usually it takes me awhile to find the good places, the right feel, the right atmosphere, but with Roberto as my excellent guide it took no time at all.
Los Dos Pacos. Horns blew, and the drums kept the Cuban rhythm playing on the jukebox in the back. There were a few tables around the place; most still had the remnants of the lunch rush. No one greeted us as we walked through the dining area toward the bar, but I still felt the familiar welcome of a place like home. It was nice to feel the security of the bar stool, the rail for my feet and the substantial wooden bar to lean on. A young Mexican man came out from the kitchen, noticed us, and called to the back room for the Pedro. He then went about clearing the tables. The bartender, Pedro, came out from the kitchen finishing up the last bit of the lunch that we were taking him away from. I ordered two beers and smiled at Roberto.
It was good to have someone to drink with. He didn’t have a lot to say. Some people are just like that. You don’t have to talk to say what’s on your mind. We continued to drink drafts the rest of the afternoon. Even though I had just met Roberto, he was already my best friend.
