City Life, Part 1

We just walked back home from the Bar on Buena*.  It's the best, laziest-titled bar/restaurant ever.  It's a bar.  It's on Buena Street.  It's the Bar on Buena.  Until two weeks ago, the Friday night barkeep knew our names.  He's left to manage a bar in the North Loop (it's called the Motel Bar, and word is that they do a mean Sidecar), so we'll have to get down there and check it out.

So anyway, we were walking back from this place, through the heart of multicultural and multi-socioeconomical Uptown.  We passed a crowded bus shelter, and a young lady emerged to tell us, "Y'all look like a Gap ad!  You look like a Gap ad!"  I glanced at my husband, and realized that we were wearing matching styles (but not colors) of $125 Marmot rain jackets.  There was no denying that we did, in fact, look like a Gap ad.  Very astute of the aforementioned young lady.

I started doing The Dance, which pretty much consisted of me throwing my hands in the air and waving them like I just didn't care, unless of course some corduroy pants or button-down shirts were about to go on sale, in which case I cared very much.  On account of being in a Gap ad.  The young lady was very entertained by my display, and Chris took some time out to tell me how I have a magical power.  Apparently, hobos are fascinated and entertained by me.  

*I love this place.  They have good beer.  It's the kind of thing where you can tell the barkeep, "I'm feeling kind of hoppy tonight," and he'll give you four choices.  Mmmm.  I enjoy drinking beer.