Well I Never
In my somewhat long and illustrious career in drinking in public places I have never been denied entry into a bar. Care to guess what happened to me on Friday evening? That’s right boys and girls, I was denied entry to one of my regular watering holes because I was not wearing a collared shirt. It went down something like this:
For a moment I was stuck. I couldn’t decide what to do. For a moment I wanted to ask to speak to whichever manager was on duty that night betting that it would be John or one of the other managers that know me as one of Scott’s hangers on and they might let me slide as I was not egregiously sloppy. I had on a nice pair of jeans, my brown Sketchers that I wear to work with my khakis, and a dark v-neck t-shirt. On the other hand I didn’t want to cause a scene because I had a lady friend with me and I did not want to cause trouble for Scott. I asked one of the waitresses whether Scott had put in an appearance yet and since he had not I decided discretion was the better part of valor and headed to the car.
Initially I was pretty pissed about the whole thing, in fact pissed enough to forego drinking there with Scott once he put in an appearance and straightened things out. I think most of my anger around the issue comes from the fact that drinking at Downing on a Friday night is a chore. Parking is impossible to find because of the Taco Milagro crowd who are yuppies of the most disgusting sort; the not quite beautiful people who think that going to Taco Milagro and hanging out with other not quite beautiful people makes them scene-worthy. I have a special loathing for Taco Milagro and the people that eat and drink there.
Actually I was so pissed off about the whole episode that even after Scott went in, laid down his thing, and cleared the way for me to get in regardless of the collar situation I was not going to go back. I told Scott something to the effect of they had missed out on their chance to make money off of me that night. I’m sure it didn’t actually affect them in the least, but it is nice to take a semi-boneheaded stand once in a while.
Now, after a day or two of fighting off the Asian Bird Flu, I am okay with how things went down. I have always thought the place needed a dress code, or needed to enforce their existing dress code. Downing is a nice bar and I have seen people in there who take sloppy dressing in public to whole new levels. On more than one occasion I have been the person taking sloppy dressing in public to inappropriate levels, primarily thanks to Scott dragging me along and assuring me it is actually okay for me to be a slob. I think he does that because it makes him look better and everyone goes, “Oh, that Scott guy is so nice, hanging out with the fat sloppy dude who clearly needs help dressing himself.” Nothing gets the girls like a homegrown nerd outreach program. Hopefully this new/renewed dedication to a dress code will help keep Downing a nice and classy place to drink.
Guy I Have Never Seen Before – “You have to have a collared shirt on to get in to Downing Street.”
Me – “Huh?’
GIHNSB – “You can’t go in without a collared shirt on.”
Me – “Really. Since when?”
GIHNSB – “It’s new.”
Me – “That sucks.”
GIHNSB – “Sorry.”
Me (In my head) – No you’re not you pretty-boy fuck.
For a moment I was stuck. I couldn’t decide what to do. For a moment I wanted to ask to speak to whichever manager was on duty that night betting that it would be John or one of the other managers that know me as one of Scott’s hangers on and they might let me slide as I was not egregiously sloppy. I had on a nice pair of jeans, my brown Sketchers that I wear to work with my khakis, and a dark v-neck t-shirt. On the other hand I didn’t want to cause a scene because I had a lady friend with me and I did not want to cause trouble for Scott. I asked one of the waitresses whether Scott had put in an appearance yet and since he had not I decided discretion was the better part of valor and headed to the car.
Initially I was pretty pissed about the whole thing, in fact pissed enough to forego drinking there with Scott once he put in an appearance and straightened things out. I think most of my anger around the issue comes from the fact that drinking at Downing on a Friday night is a chore. Parking is impossible to find because of the Taco Milagro crowd who are yuppies of the most disgusting sort; the not quite beautiful people who think that going to Taco Milagro and hanging out with other not quite beautiful people makes them scene-worthy. I have a special loathing for Taco Milagro and the people that eat and drink there.
Actually I was so pissed off about the whole episode that even after Scott went in, laid down his thing, and cleared the way for me to get in regardless of the collar situation I was not going to go back. I told Scott something to the effect of they had missed out on their chance to make money off of me that night. I’m sure it didn’t actually affect them in the least, but it is nice to take a semi-boneheaded stand once in a while.
Now, after a day or two of fighting off the Asian Bird Flu, I am okay with how things went down. I have always thought the place needed a dress code, or needed to enforce their existing dress code. Downing is a nice bar and I have seen people in there who take sloppy dressing in public to whole new levels. On more than one occasion I have been the person taking sloppy dressing in public to inappropriate levels, primarily thanks to Scott dragging me along and assuring me it is actually okay for me to be a slob. I think he does that because it makes him look better and everyone goes, “Oh, that Scott guy is so nice, hanging out with the fat sloppy dude who clearly needs help dressing himself.” Nothing gets the girls like a homegrown nerd outreach program. Hopefully this new/renewed dedication to a dress code will help keep Downing a nice and classy place to drink.
posted by James at 6:57 PM
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