I got a text from a friend, and I was in my nightclothes and had just sat down with a late dinner (a microwaved bowl of beans and rice into which I had cut up a little Hungarian sausage, with a hardboiled egg to boot). I didn't feel like going out, but then I changed my mind, threw on some clothes, and jogged down to the bar near me that has a plywood sign out front.
There, I texted pretty much everyone in my cell phone's address book (at least 10-12 of whom weren't aware it was going on; having free texts sure is useful!).
The Sunday-Monday bartender (who I had heard of but never met before) turned on CNN and turned down the jukebox music, but there were some (Mexican) drunks dancing to salsa and they kept asking her to turn the music back up, even though a few of their (Mexican) friends were at the bar and pissed because they wanted to watch the breaking news.
So, the Sunday-Monday bartender kicked one loud drunk guy out, and suggested to the other that she buy a 6-pack and go home, which she did. The (Mexicans) who wanted to watch thanked me for asking the bartender to put on the news, and the bartender bought me a drink to apologize (which made me feel horrendous, so I apologized and left her a $5 tip; she said it was nothing, it was just those 2 who left, and she herself wanted to watch the news).
So, we watched the news, and before I left I introduced myself to the (Mexicans) who wanted to watch, one of whom said she was "Chiquita", "like the bananas."
The one loud drunk guy had kept trying to get back in the bar, too, and the bartender had locked the front door against him, though later she opened it and he had come back in, which made Chiquita yell to kick him out and call the police.
After she did that, she turned to me and was like, "That's my husband."
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