I would take the Raymond Road exit toward my childhood home, marveling at the ancient trees that line the roads through Herrontown Woods. Familiar corners of town triggered soft, easy memories as I inhaled my Olive’s chicken salad sandwich.
You, the substitute teacher I still recognize from second grade at Littlebrook Elementary. Shock of shocks — this fall finds me living in Princeton. I am going to get it on with Princeton — social-life style. A lady never crawls alone, so I enlisted the help of my de facto brother, Ezra. 2.) Only the bar’s cheapest suds could be consumed. ) 3.) Twenty minutes in each location — then abandon beer, conversation, and establishment for the next joint. Here’s what I already know about this place: it’s got good burgers, less than ambient lighting, free popcorn, and pretty pricey beverages, considering the selection. You just look good for 27.”I’m pretty sure what happened next was that I fell off my bar stool laughing. Once again I am moved to whip out my cell phone and engage in a deep conversation with, uh, myself, whenever I glimpse someone I know on Nassau Street. After a hearty dinner, we set off to figure out who is at what bar in Princeton and why. The bar seating is full, so Ezra and I grab a table with a view. )“I’m 27.” With this, Rich recoils and his mouth sort of jerks open.“What? In front of us are the backs of those who snagged stools at the bar. (White wine drinkers take note: I enjoy a Soave or Fume Blanc as much as the next girl, but if you order it at The Tap Room, I will make fun of you. I make fun of Bucky for his Chardonnay, and he takes it like a champ. There is a gentleman with a laptop open, a group of likely post-rehearsal dinner friends, a woman with a frighteningly pink manicure grading papers, and striped button-down shirts as far as the eye can see. In print.) I’ve noticed these guys noticing me noticing them; so — unlike this sentence — the approach was pretty simple;“Can I interrupt you guys? Of course.”“I’m just curious why you chose this bar tonight.”“Wait, who are you with? His pal, Rich, informs me that they would have gone to Triumph, but they weren’t up for the five-dollar cover, and frankly, I can’t blame them. I notice two young men sitting together at the corner of the bar; one of them is enjoying a refreshing glass of white wine. ”“Oh, that’s my brother.”“Oh.”They peer over at the de facto brother. B Winberie J B Winberie is a bar named for a fictional figure.
Bar and lounge area, five big-screen TVs playing sports. I go on: “My friend and I were debating how old you all are.”Stares all around — and these aren’t checking-me-out stares — these are clock ticking, crickets chirping, beep.
(Ancient though I may be.) We left through the hotel lobby. Yankee Doodle Tap Room, the Nassau Inn, 10 Palmer Square, 800-862-7728 or 609-921-7500. ” They turn, fix their gazes on me, and not one of them responds. The bartender served me three Sam Adams Octoberfest — five bucks a piece was no bargain, but I consider $1.50 a fair mark up for ambiance and significantly higher-quality beer than we were served at the Tap Room.
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College, misadventures in career building, and changes of heart led to changes of plans that inevitably drew me home to regroup for weeks or months on end. Not really, though Rich and Bucky claimed it took them forever to get served. It is also a bar that has never attracted me for any discernible amount of time.