Tried a new place in Wesport called Torre’s pizza for dinner. Walking in just before 8, the place was nearly empty. “You have pizza here, right?”, thinking I was being cute. The woman near the bar offered to seat us, but then started with warnings and qualifers that in a few minutes the place would be over run with people about to do some heavy drinking during the 10 dollar power hour, where 10 bucks means all you can drink from 8 to 10 PM. Did we look wholesome and unworthy of being surrounded by cheap party animals I wondered?
We sat down and ordered a medium pizza, and sure enough the room started to fill with twentysomething men wearing shoes but no socks, each holding two plastic cups, one in each hand. For every 10 men there was one woman. By the time we left, just thirty minutes after arriving, the place was standing room only.
Back on the street in Wesport we headed over to Kelly’s Bar. I’ve heard about it for ages, but had never actually been there. We stopped in for a drink. It too was fairly empty, but the night was young. The bartender who served us had been there for 25 years. People started arriving more frequently just as we were leaving. We noticed that we were the only ones who hadn’t been carded on the way in – though to my eyes everyone looked evenly spaced between 25 and 40.
Just after we left, two women with very long legs, long blond hair, and very short red miniskirts were crossing the street to enter the bar. They were carrying large black bags, and I realized they were representatives from a drink company, there to blend in and ply the crowd with bottled mixed drinks. I wondered what that job would be like.
Tastes like Rubber Hose
After work Kim and I rode our motorcycles to McCoy’s public house in Westport. So far we’ve only taken short rides around brookside, though last weekend we rode to breakfast at Mam Belle’s cafe. Tonight’s ride was on busier streets and through more traffic than before. I took her through the Plaza so she could cruise by Latte Land on her lovely blue Ninja and see the motorcycle crowd there, but I think she was too focused on riding to see them.
The weather was great for sitting out on the deck at McCoy’s, drinking beer, and eating dinner. Kim’s Dr Pepper tasted like a rubber hose because the waiter poured it from the outdoor bar hose that had been sitting unused for awhile, so he replaced it with a pour from the regular soda fountain. Wesport was moderately active for a summertime weekday evening. I was surprised to see that the house Stout had the lowest alcohol content in the 3% range whereas the IPA was more than 5%. I tried both.
Afterwards we walked to the Broadway cafe for espresso, and then rode the bikes home.