Day 1

The natural reaction to a break-up is to accept a dinner offer from someone you know is interested in you but that is unavailable. This usually results in an ego boost and no regret. So last night I accepted S' offer to make me a nice home-cooked meal and hang out.

Dinner was great - prime rib, mashed potatoes, asparagus, and glazed carrots complimented by a nice pinot noir from the Santa Barbara winery. Kudos and thanks to S for a great meal.

After stuffing ourselves we decided to walk downtown for a pint and hang out a bit longer. We ended up at the Anacapa Brewery where we ended up having a disappointing encounter with the ever-unpleasant barmaid N and lifeless owner P. The encounter was that S, who is a regular at the brew pub and a member of the "mug club", a club wherein a patron pays $50 for a personalized mug that the pub fills at a discounted rate, ordered a brown ale. I had ordered a red. He was raving about how good it was so I took a sip from the mug. This sent N, the barkeep, into a tizzy in which she recited the various mug club contract provisions barring the sharing of beer from a mug with a non-mug club member. I thought she was kidding that a bar would actually contract with a drunkard regarding the rules of using a mug at a brewery. Apparantly a mug club member can drink from my pint, but I cannot sip from the mug, even though he owns the mug and presumably the beer therein. She did, however, offer to pour me a sample if I asked nicely. Yes, it seemed a bit illogical to me too but it was the sip that launched a thousand quips and after ranting to the pub owner to no avail we left. I am still disappointed that S left her a tip. Shame on him for cowtowing to poor service out of fear of offending a consistently rude woman that he has no chance of ever bedding. If it were my mug I would have taken it to another pub and led a revolt of fellow mug clubbers against the brewery for not allowing other folks to sip from the precious mugs. I'm surprised they don't charge rent for the mugs at the brewery. And they wonder why they don't do very well. I will not be back to that brewery. Although it would be fun to go get a mug and take it to the other pub and ask them to keep it there for me...

With my Irish up we headed to a seedy establishment, the Star Lounge, where no one would mind sharing mugs or needles or partners. You know the kind of place where there is a key behind the bar to the restroom. High class. S shocked me and ordered Budweiser and a shot of Jack Daniels. Yech. I stuck with a pint of draft. The barkeep there was quite pleasant and bantered with us a bit. She was a palm reader of sorts, something she picked up as a hobby while serving a prison term for what sounded like murder. I love it when someone asks me if I've ever been to prison in the same non-chalant manner they would ask if I'd ever been to Disneyland. It definitely takes the edge off. She then shared a shot with S and read his palm. He's going to have health problems if he keeps drinking and he has issues with his mother. Very insightful. She then read mine and told me I am destined to live a long, healthy life full of many break-ups. Just what I was hoping for, especially on day one of the 28 day adventure.

After another shot or two by S we headed back to his place where I strategically avoided the JD-induced groping and advances and made my way home for the night.

It's going to be a long month.