I was let go from my job in December 2003 and was not nearly so Zen about my circumstances. I was rather well grounded at first, knowing full well that I'd land on my feet, but my positive attitude didn't last. I pretty much took the holidays off because you can't find a job during the last three weeks of December, anyway, and also began my employment search in early January. However, being a person who needs stability and a bit of control, I quickly became anxious. I had plenty of money saved, but spending it frightened me. And I began to wonder if I'd find a decent job in my chosen profession. As it happened, I found an even better job in my chosen profession, but back in those dark winter days of early 2004, who knew how everything would work out?
Since we were both unemployed, Tom and I did a lot of chatting during that time. One day he mentioned that he and his friend Jessica, who was also between jobs, had developed a semi-regular lunch habit during which they'd always have beer to accompany their meals. Somehow, that lead Tom and me to decide to take one day off from job hunting every week or two and find somewhere to drink during the day (forget lunch, you can eat at home). Day drinking came with some pretty specific rules: it had to take place in an actual bar on a weekday, and the imbibing had to begin by 2 p.m., at the latest.
Day drinking took us to a wide variety of watering holes, including the Gold Dust Lounge, the Phoenix and Zeitgeist. As winter turned to spring and then to summer, our family of mid-day partiers grew. Unfortunately, Jessica proved to be a short term day drinker when she landed a job within a matter of weeks. By mid-March, I began working part-time, but my employment was very part-time, and I certainly could still fit day drinking into my schedule. Sometime in the spring Suzanne jumped into the mix, and in May Chris quit his job. Even though she was employed full time, Gretchen would sometimes join us, as she worked at night. Even Irina, who lives in L.A. but was also without a job back then, would come up to San Francisco to day drink on occasion.
At some point, I'm not sure how or why, the other bars faded into the background, and the Orbit Room, with its floor to ceiling windows and cafe-like atmosphere, became our day drinking spot of choice. Over time, however, our schedules grew more congested, and eventually we all found gainful employment. Thus the end of day drinking.
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After the sun set, Zeina and Alexandra had to go, Chris had a dinner date, and Tom, Suzanne and I hit Zeitgeist for Roland's birthday party. And here's what I learned: on a Wednesday afternoon Zeitgeist is one of the greatest bars on the planet, but on a Friday night it sucks. Between the wall to wall people and the incredibly rude staff (who were probably driven to said rudeness by the maddening crowd, but still), going home began to look like a very attractive option. The cold San Francisco evening didn't help matters; so after one beer and a two tamales from the Tamale Lady, I called it a night. That is the good thing about day drinking: you can have a full evening and still get home and to bed at a decent hour.
After all was said and done, however, I felt a bit like crap when I woke up this morning. I wasn't so much hungover as just very aware that I'd poured alcohol into my system. I think I've become more sensitive to liquor since I've only been drinking two days a week (by and large) for the last 14 months. And that crappy feeling kind of makes me want to quit drinking altogether.
Kind of, anyway. Day drinking just wouldn't work with lemonade.
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