Buttery


We woke up leisurely on Friday. It was time for a greasy spoon. Made it out to The Buttery, a place that hasn’t scrubbed the walls since the late 70s. The bright blood orange tables and accents were sun faded. The jukebox, pure joy to behold. Dang me for not bringing the camera.

The food was great. I still set the record for slowest eater.

Went back to the bar for some cleanup, then headed to the Science Center to catch an exhibit about underwater exploration.

Maneuvering around the thick crowds of kids with ’03 shirts on was interesting. Funny to see how homogeneous groups are. And how young these seniors looked and acted.

I feel wonderfully old.

Thing is, we’re a homogeneous group ourselves… all over 30 with facial hair and dressed slovenly.

We wrapped up and grabbed snacks from the Italian grocery store, filled with wonderful smells.

Headed back to the house to play some videogames and chill out. I napped.

In for the night, I left the three bears and headed to grab a quick bite and moseyed over to the Country Western bar. The crowd was fairly thin, and the air conditioning was in overdrive.

I nursed a few beers and watched the dancefloor in wallflower awe. The line dancing had a few standouts and the two-stepping and waltzes made me wish I knew how to proper. I had a lesson years ago at the San Jose rodeo, but I was awkward and have not ventured out to that area of the bars since.

I learned how to mosh growing up. That’s what I do.

A pang of desire crossed my mind, but it turned quickly to a feeling of recognition. What I saw was ultimately good. Something I can attain, in time – it’ll just take some lessons and comfortable shoes.

The dinner I had wasn’t sitting well, so I made it back in time to watch Jackass the movie at the bear’s house. I cried laughing.