The bar is a beautiful place. That's the theory, anyway. Some are. Some aren't. And sometimes you stay too late and do too many dumb, stupid things, and then you find yourself trying to run across four busy lanes of traffic on a gimp knee, and later, at home, you wonder why you went in the first place. In the morning, you think once again that you aren't going to go anymore, that you will eat grilled vegetables and tofu and drink herbal teas and read all the books you haven't read yet and meditate and do yoga and. . and. . . and. . . .
But you know, there are endless temptations and a bounty of opportunities. And so. . . .