While mom was out playing bingo with grandma and a bunch of old biddies, dad came up and took Steph and I out to dinner. Instead of going to Scatterfield (the Strip up here in Anderson) where every chain-restaurant is located, we opted to find a hole-in-the-wall.
The bar and grill "Dreamers" just opened a few weeks ago, and we walked into an older building facade to a decadently painted area of dark moody colors with flat-screen TVs mounted everywhere, and a small sitting area with kitschy white couches. The menu was small, but the food was good. But that's not the interesting part...
A short man, trying hard to to be trendy with this pin-striped shirt that fit snug over his pudgy body, walked to the bathroom. He came out, went back to his lonesome bar stool, but no more than two minutes later, he had a cigarette in his right hand and walked back to the bathroom. He came back out, and then took a drink of his beer, and it had to be no more than two more minutes when he walked back to the bathroom. I saw him approach the mirror when he went in, so I knew he wasn't peeing or the like. He came back out, and then you'll never believe what happened next.
Can you handle it?
He walked back to the bathroom! This time I looked back at the bar and a guy with a hat and an argyle sweater caught my eye, he looked in the direction of the bathroom and I shrugged all dramatic and he shrugged, too. The gentleman came out and this went on two or three more times, until he left the bar.
I know when you break the seal, you have to go and go and go and go, but he just had one beer, so apparently he was obsessed with something on his face.