Lord knows why I’ve been reminiscing so much. Is homesickness really a thing? But anyway, sometimes we’d walk to Peggy’s instead and Brian was always working there for awhile after he got done at the other bar. My dad drank scotch, and I drank the most amazing hot chocolate I would ever have. Now that I can say honestly, the moment i touched my lips i knew this was like nothing I’d ever know. Stars aligned. Perhaps only a buffalo burger in Boulder compared. But one night it was too hot, and I grabbed my dad’s scotch because i thought it was water. I was two, come on. My dad laughed and Brian managed to laugh while getting me a towel to spit into. My parents taught me not to spit, so instead i swallowed, and laughed and toddled around screaming and babbling to everyone. Irish Joe would have thought it was a hoot. But he didn’t work there yet.
It’s odd to me that i can picture their faces, i remember how hot the hot chocolate was, i remember the monkey that spun around silly when you played with it, the lighting of the hallway and being shorter than the tables. But there’s no pictures of this all happening. I haven’t asked dad about it in a couple years. How would i have remembered that all in such a specific manner, and angle I’d never have if i was older.
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