Text 8429, 63 rader
Skriven 2014-01-02 03:42:00 av MICHAEL LOO (1:123/140)
Ärende: crippled bear 7
=======================
[I think I had a set of replies 6-10 prepared for uploading
but deleted before processing. If there are pressing issues
(here, ha) I've not addressed the replies must have been those.]

Eventually we got out of there and into the Crippled Bear,
whose parking lot was quite full, and the place was buzzing.
There was a wait for a table, and we were just going to have
beer anyway, so I suggested we sit at the bar, something that
Annie said that she'd never done. I presume that statement
refers to this bar, not to bars in general.

We got a pitcher of Yuengling lager, about 400 Calories
apiece, and figured that would be enough, and maybe a half
pitcher for seconds, and everyone would be happy. Bonnie,
the blonde bartender, told us that cheesesteaks were on
special for $2.75 apiece, so we ended up having them, but
mine of course hold the cheese. It was your standard shaved
stuff, done nice and gray; the cheesesteak had cheese and
onions, and mine had been dragged through the garden, as
somebody in the kitchen couldn't fathom my order, which was
quite explicit: bread, meat, bread, nothing else. So I
got winter lettuce and winter tomato and I refrained for
reasons of my own delicacy from opening the sandwich to
investigate what other winter vegetables were included.
Oh, there was a sizable slather of mayo, which actually
helped the lettuce slide down.

Annie being a conversationalist, we had a bunch of quite
irreverent talk, some really rude, most involving one of
the regular patrons who is being stalked by the mother-in-law
of the brunette bartender. And so we got a half-pitcher to
continue in the chat, and Annie got kind of drunk and
hilarious, and another half-pitcher arrived when I wasn't
looking, making about half a gallon of beer each; we
decided that was enough, because she didn't want to become
impaired, which is sensible. Otherwise Annie wanted to meet
the stalker, who was predicted to show up that evening, to the
glee of the regular customers and the apparent discomfiture
of the victim, who on the other hand showed no sign of flight.
I'm not sure I would have enjoyed waiting for an unknown
period of time for an event that could only end in disaster
or at the very least embarrassment.

A peculiarity. Looking at the bill I noticed that a pitcher
of beer is $7; our two subsequent half-pitchers totalled $6.
All told, a substantial snack and all the beer we could
comfortably choke down, plus a holiday-size tip, under $25.

There was no dinner this night, and it was early to bed but
not particularly early to rise. Annie rose with a hangover;
I was fine.

I went upstairs to find Lola in my room; how she had got
there is not clear - probably at some point I'd gone to the
bathroom and had not fully shut the door. Surprisingly, she
hadn't trashed my suitcase or my bed, but there was a
fragment of Lindt-ball wrapper. I suspect that the little
idiot had eaten a Lindt ball, foil and plastic and all, and
discarded or retched rejected bits throughout the house.

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