IRISH COFFEE NIGHT II - ANOTHER PERSPECTIVE

Ok, Ira wants me to post a blog entry about our last HEAD Trip, Irish Coffee Night, and I want to - I really do - but some of the details are a little hazy. Actually, most of the details are hazy but he really wants me to write this so I guess I'll stick to the parts I remember...bear with me...

We got to the Buena Vista and the vista was indeed buena, especially as the sun sank behind the Golden Gate Bridge. Bobby was such a gentleman that he traded spots with me when he noticed I had my eyes screwed shut against the blazing sun. I really need to find my sunglasses.

We ordered a round of Irish Coffee and settled back to enjoy the company, the ambiance and the after-image of the bridge burned into my retinas by the setting sun. It was relaxing and very San Francisco circa 1965. The coffee came and it was delicious, so delicious that I and a few of (all) my table mates slurped them down like dogs going after anything that falls on the kitchen floor.

So we ordered another round or two and watched the bartender make them. It was cool in a kind of almost-an-assembly-line-but-better-'cause-its-not-a-robot kind of way. Watching him line up all those glasses, pour in boiling water, dump it out, put in sugar cubes, pour in coffee, then whiskey, then dump whipped cream on top was fascinating and grew ever more so as the Irish part of the coffee took hold.

Aside from guzzling spiked coffee, there was conversation going on, much of which involved Ira's beer quest. Jenn, who is determined that Ira will at least approach her whopping guess of 1,006, suggested that we go hunting for different types of beer. So we called for the check. We spent $114 on Irish coffee! It was good and all, but wow! The happiest person in the bar was our waitress because we are really good tippers and our desire to tip is directly proportional to the amount of Irish in our coffee...

Off we meandered to a few more bars where I discovered that I was a willing receptacle for most of the brew other people didn't like. Maybe I didn't like them either, I don't know. I do have to apologize to Bobby, though, as he had a pint that he liked a lot and I sucked most of it down when he was distracted. Sorry Bobby. He was distracted by a bunch of German tourists who are now our best friends and I think are spending next Christmas with Joan. I still want to know who the hell we sang happy birthday to. Maybe its on YouTube.

This is where it begins to get fuzzy. I know we decided that we were hungry and that only bar food would do. I remember buffalo, blue cheese mac and cheese and buffalo tater tots. There were fries, tacos, quesadillas, and, oh yeah, more beer. If any of my stroke doctors read this, I am so toast, but we had fun and the food was cholesterfyingly delish! Oh, I have to apologize to Jess for eating so many of her tots. Sorry Jess.

I remember walking, singing, some stairs (successfully navigated!) and getting home. I have no bruises, rashes or animal bites and, aside from a few friends, no cops have stopped by, so it was a good night. And I promise I won't do it again. Until next year...