After a long winter’s hike, you’re nursing a beer in your favorite restaurant bar. You’d been out all morning looking for a Snowy Owl, but didn’t see one.
You’re no stranger to this bar, or this beer. Both are old friends. But there’s something different today. The place feels nicer. Why is that?
You gotta think about it. But first, you gotta hit the men’s room.
There’s a big guy in there who got stuck watching his kid while his wife shops in the neighborhood. He’s changing the kid’s diaper on the sink.
The atmosphere’s worse than usual in the men’s room. Plus, you can’t get at the sink.
It’s a deciding moment.
You’re pissed off because you didn’t see the Snowy Owl that many people have been talking about on the internet. Now this.
You want to give the guy a dirty look in the mirror, and say something like “cheeez!” Then leave, and slam the door.
Something stops you. Instead, you say, “Ah, the joys of fatherhood.”
You smile at the guy as he struggles. He looks up and says, “Tell me about it.” And smiles back. Now you both feel good instead of bad.
Back at the bar, it hits you. Why the place feels nicer.
It’s the lights. This restaurant bar is lit up with little holiday lights. They’re strung across the ceiling, over the bottles, around doorways.
You hate to say it—it’s not a two-fisted comment—but they’re kind of pretty. They give the place a…glow
Normally, you don’t care about things in a bar being pretty. Except for tall, blond Donna who sometimes sits with you.
No, you don’t care that they’re pretty. But you gotta wonder, why don’t they have these little lights all year ‘round?
~
This post was first published twelve years ago, and it seems worth posting again. It evokes a feeling that hasn’t changed much in a world that has. Enjoy the season.
