The primary reason was the utter shit service I received at BWW in J'town. It was barely crowded that day as Dak blew it against the 49ers by running with no time-outs and a clock counting down. I could not get served at all.
To use an anology, if the waitresses had been working in a whorehouse, I could not have gotten laid with a fistful of hundreds in that bar despite it being at only 80% capacity. Nobody would wait on me.
So, I stopped drinking all together; And I never drink at home.
From my perspective, it was easier just to stop drinking than deal with the chronic disappointment of going out and being completely ignored by BWW staff. It had happened at other places, too. I don't know why I was constantly ignored despite my money being the same shade of green as others. I am mostly quiet and keep to myself, too, so I am at a loss to explain it.
Complaining to the BWW management was absolutely useless. There was never any punishment for the staff after they completely ignored me.
This really had gone on for years with that dump, but that day was the final straw that broke the camel's back. My minor protest may have only stopped a single revenue stream for them, but I'm OK with that.
I still hope they go bankrupt and will celebrate that day if it ever happens.
In my time since, I really have only gone out once or twice a year with a friend for a beer. The only exception has been to go with dad to a pre-game beer before a Bellarmine basketball game.
When I updated my doctor of my dietary change at a checkup, it went something like this:
Me: "I've almost completely stopped drinking. I'm down to about two beers a month, on average."
Doctor: "Two beers a week is great."
Me: "No. Two beers a month, maybe? I only go out for a beer with dad before a Bellarmine basketball game."
Doctor: "Oh!" He suddenly realized the ramifications of what I was saying with how drastically I cut alcohol out.
After a small pause......
Me: "Yeah. Dad's a bad influence." My dad is 80 years old.
On a side note, I did experience one of the funniest stories ever in my life that I have ever experienced before a game last November at a bar, but I cannot share it here.
I know.... I sound like a tease.
If you've heard me tell the story, you know why.
It is "LMFAO, crying tears" funny.
The family members that I told the story to were all in LITERAL tears and cracking up. I don't know that I can write it and achieve the scale of hilarity. It has to be a video media for the laughter to come across.
Hollywood could never write something that was this funny.
***
So today, I wrapped my day up before 4:00 pm EST and I decided I would go out for a beer.
It was happy hour and I think I last went to a happy hour with my friend Daniel a couple years ago. Going to happy hour just has not been a priority the last few years.
I walked in to a place I have eaten at before and had a seat at the bar despite my hating actually sitting at the bar. I really hate people crowded up behind me and I did not pick a great seat in retrospect, but it was the first one open to me.
This exercise became a reminder of how awkward I can be.
The bartender, she was very nice. She was definitely younger than me, but I cannot gauge her age.
"What can I get you, City?"
"City?" Why is she calling me "City?" I wondered.
I looked at my shirt to see if I was wearing a Falls City shirt. Nope. I had on a St. Patrick's Day shirt from Old Chicago. It's an indescribably dark shade of green some Marketing jagoff probably calls "New England Spring Olive."
"I'll, uh, have a Miller Lite."
"Draft or bottle, City?"
Why does she keeps calling me "City?" Is this like a Country Mouse / City Mouse thing?
"Draft," I replied.
"Do you need a menu, City?"
"No I am good."
I spent about 30 seconds overanalyzing why she was calling me "City" as she poured my beer. I could not figure it out. J'town is on the Eastern side of the county, but is still considered a part of Louisville.
She turned back around and put the beer on my coaster.
"Can I ask you a dumb question?" I asked.
"Sure."
"Why do you keep calling me 'City?'"
She was puzzled for just a moment and answered, in a slower, LOUDER voice, "I am calling you 'Sweetie!'"
Well shit. I look like an idiot.
It's a wonder the whole bar did not start laughing. In another universe, this is someone's "meet cute" story, but for me, I call it "Monday."
She was a good bartender though. I've honestly always had good service there. It allowed me to laugh at myself for being half-deaf after seeing about 250 concerts in my life (so many Springsteen shows) plus all the bar shows in-between.
Too much background noise is a terrible thing for me after attending all those concerts.
***
Later, there was a guy (let's call him Whitebeard) leaving that I'd seen for years at the non-sports bar called Old Chicago. I've caught him in here a couple of times over the last five year (I've been here maybe six times ever,) even when I was there to eat lunch and not drink. He and his woman friend / girlfriend (I was told years ago it was not his girlfriend or wife, but that was 8 years ago at OC) were leaving and the conversation went like this:
Guy a couple seats down: "Heading out?"
Whitebeard: "Yeah, I gotta sober up enough to play volleyball tonight."
Guy a couple seats down: "You play volleyball" The astonishment in his voice was hilarious.
Whitebeard: "I ... just kind of stand there in the sand."
It was a sad and funny confession. Reminds me of the softball teams at Symix in the 90s. "I can't play softball well, but I can drink beer."
I do miss those hilarious interactions from having stopped going to happy hours.
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