I don't recall ever having a favorite bar before, at least not since I've been of legal drinking age and able to get into all of them...In the past 3 months or so, I have been there at least 3 different times with 3 different people and it seems to be a pretty clear indicator that I have finally discovered a bar I like. And it's a pub. Whatever.
This is a Blarney Stone that is not a bar or a pub.The gorgeous Cec and I met up at BSP for some munchies (I have confirmed with James that the Irish Nachos do indeed contain crack cocaine*, hence their highly addictive quality) and drinks before we headed over to the Showbox for last night's show; I arrived at 8 PM as the last of the happy hour crowd was trickling out and we left shortly before 10 PM to make sure to get there in time for the headliners: Florence + The Machine.
I love her. Florence is so cute and fiery and powerful, I just want to put her in my pocket. She opened with "Howl" and wound down with "Dog Days Are Over," pretty much making my month. When we started the trek back to my car shortly before midnight so I could give my homegirl a ride home, I was high and happy didn't care at all that I had to be up around 6:30 AM. Around 7 AM, I was slightly less thrilled.
When I stopped by my coworkers desk this morning to fill him on last night's shenanigans, he told me I was looking fresh (in my hastily thrown on hat, cat hair-ridden sweatshirt and last night's jeans) and asked me what the trick was - I pantomimed wiping the leftover mascara from under my eyes and headed back to my office.
*for those of you with no sense of humor: this is a joke
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