Tom Waits, 'San Diego Serenade'
Bar Veloce is a "European-Styled Fast Bar" (their words, not mine) with a couple of locations Downtown. A thin strip of a room, the SoHo location almost feels like a crack caught between two buildings. I've always felt that the closer the distance between the walls, the easier it is to trap in a vibe. Last night, not even a matchbox could have held any vibe. There was just four us filling up the vestibule -the two women at the end of the bar, both with a descending level of unattractiveness bordering on plain ghastly and my workmate (The Ukrainian) and I. I was contemplating further extending my night and was planning to use the one drink at the 'Fast Bar' as an almost dress rehearsal or physical test to see if my exhaustion would fade.
It did not.
I don't think i can blame The Ukrainian, the two sub-transvestites nor even Duncan, our genial Italian film-buff of a barman. I'm just tired. No great deeper explanation required, other than sometimes (or in my case often) one just gets old.
I used to be able to really give the candle a good burn at both ends. But at the moment, the thundering cruise over Manhattan Bridge seems to relax me just as much as a 7 hour Texas Hold 'em session once did. I'm sure this (hopefully somewhat vapid) phase of conservative expressionism will pass. I'm sure I'll be able to prove to The Ukrainian that i used to be able to pop my workmates into a cab much later than 15 minutes post leaving work. I'm sure that all the old feelings, moves, lines, energies and addictions will return. And I'm sure I'll be 22 and a half again.
I'm sure.
Real soon.
But until then - Duncan, can you please serve me that petit dolce of strawberries, gelato and balsamic, one quick glass of fizz, lower the music and just ask everyone to clear out of the venue. i think I'll catch a quick nap in one of the booths and then I'll be refreshed. Ready for the trek to Brooklyn and well rested for my night..... of sleep.
Bar Veloce is a "European-Styled Fast Bar" (their words, not mine) with a couple of locations Downtown. A thin strip of a room, the SoHo location almost feels like a crack caught between two buildings. I've always felt that the closer the distance between the walls, the easier it is to trap in a vibe. Last night, not even a matchbox could have held any vibe. There was just four us filling up the vestibule -the two women at the end of the bar, both with a descending level of unattractiveness bordering on plain ghastly and my workmate (The Ukrainian) and I. I was contemplating further extending my night and was planning to use the one drink at the 'Fast Bar' as an almost dress rehearsal or physical test to see if my exhaustion would fade.
It did not.
I don't think i can blame The Ukrainian, the two sub-transvestites nor even Duncan, our genial Italian film-buff of a barman. I'm just tired. No great deeper explanation required, other than sometimes (or in my case often) one just gets old.
I used to be able to really give the candle a good burn at both ends. But at the moment, the thundering cruise over Manhattan Bridge seems to relax me just as much as a 7 hour Texas Hold 'em session once did. I'm sure this (hopefully somewhat vapid) phase of conservative expressionism will pass. I'm sure I'll be able to prove to The Ukrainian that i used to be able to pop my workmates into a cab much later than 15 minutes post leaving work. I'm sure that all the old feelings, moves, lines, energies and addictions will return. And I'm sure I'll be 22 and a half again.
I'm sure.
Real soon.
But until then - Duncan, can you please serve me that petit dolce of strawberries, gelato and balsamic, one quick glass of fizz, lower the music and just ask everyone to clear out of the venue. i think I'll catch a quick nap in one of the booths and then I'll be refreshed. Ready for the trek to Brooklyn and well rested for my night..... of sleep.
