Going Maskless Can Make You Tipsy

I had no intention of drinking last Saturday after the rally. It’s been a long time since I’ve been bar hopping and I ended up getting a little bit drunk. I place the blame squarely on the vendors I visited who did not honor the sacred mask mandates as anticipated.

The beautiful O2 that God provided along with the alcohol was simply inebriating.

I had eaten a large breakfast with my 2-of-3 daughter who turned 29 that fateful day, so my belly was full of eggs, crepes and fruit when I arrived at the Capitol. However, I like to try to find a way to support the surrounding businesses while I’m there.

My first stop had previously shared with me that the Saturday rallies tended to have a negative impact on business. I wanted to make sure I helped turn the tide on that perceived trend, so in I went with my bare naked face showing.

Regardless of the scandalous presentation, they cheerfully seated me at a little table in their inner sanctum. I wasn’t hungry, but I wanted to support them, so I thought, “You know, it’s been a long time since I’ve had a Bloody Mary… what could it hurt?”

And then straight out the door was another wonderful establishment. I was certain they would not let me in without a fight, so I had my handy dandy flyer and a smile ready to leave with them.

But for whatever reason… the timing, the flow, the person guarding the door, I found myself sliding serenely onto a bar area dining stool. A little disoriented, I started to wonder if one of my super powers might be an invisibility cloak. I wasn’t hungry, but I wanted to support them, so I thought, “You know, it’s been a long time since I’ve had a light amber ale… what could it hurt?”

While I slowly sipped, I scanned for signs of intelligent life. Twice I noticed people either leaving or using the bathroom without donning the diaper. I quietly approached each in turn, briefly describing how wonderful it was to see their beautiful faces, thanking them, handing them a flyer to share if they should so desire.

I may inadvertently be inventing a successful pick-up line.

“I really miss eating here once in a while,” I mentioned to the friendly chap that has served us on many pre-COVID occasions. “Somehow I got in here without being harassed, but when I can count on it, please let me know and we’ll be back for street tacos,” and handed him the paper.

Next, I headed down to a place I was certain would stop me at the door.

But then it happened AGAIN!!! I was cheerfully seated inside after a brief wait in the reception area. Bedazzled, I could come to no conclusion other than I must have somehow downloaded light codes that activated latent Jedi mind tricks…

“These are not the droids you’re looking for.”

I wasn’t hungry, but I wanted to support them, so I thought, “You know, it’s been a long time since I’ve had a Moscow Mule… what could it hurt?”