French kiss

I ventured to the local bar yesterday to try and discover whether St. Patrick’s Day celebration in Chicago was finally over. The bar was mostly empty. Only one regular was there, and he left shortly after I arrived. Then the rest of the folks left, and I was left completely alone to drink a couple of beers and watch the basketball tournament with no obstructions and distractions.

Folks who had been out shopping started to drift into the bar. A guy from North Carolina sat down next to me, and was dying to have me listen to him talk nonstop while he drank his beer. It didn’t promise to be as much fun as the French kiss I got from the woman I met at the bar for a few moments Thursday night.

So, I finished my beer and left.