14 May, 2008...10:16 am
A taste for back streets.
There’s a little tavern on the north side of the river that I used to go to in college by myself. Only a couple of my friends even knew of it’s existence, so I was always sure to get some time to lose myself in the cozy atmosphere, surrounded by locals. Not even boyfriend knew where I was and like a good man, he’s learned not to ask questions when I say, “I’m going out.” I liked to chat to the bartender that doesn’t work there anymore. He was a dreamer and a kindred spirit and we would discuss his plans to move to Italy or southern France with his little boy and his girlfriend. (I wonder if he made it?)
A few weeks ago, attracted by the open-mic night on Tuesdays, some of my friends began regularly visiting my tavern, so the jig was up. But it’s been fun joining them for cheap pints of beer and listening to talented performers and occasionally one of my own friends play. I love the atmosphere of small pubs and taverns. So close and cozy–even if you don’t know anyone it’s understood that you’re all there for the same thing.
Last night boyfriend and I went to hear a friend play. Boyfriend has a love of taking the road less traveled, so we wound our way there through the french-braided streets on his motorcycle. I love riding on his motorcycle. Without the obstruction of windows and doors, you get to experience the drive. And boyfriend likes to drive really fast. There’s something lovely too about holding on to someone you love while you drive that you can’t get in a car ride.
In the tavern I sipped my lambic and chatted with friends over the performers crooning cowboy songs. There were a huge number of people outside my normal friend-family there that I knew. As I began to look around, suddenly the atmosphere didn’t seem cozy, it seemed claustrophobic. The longer I’ve lived in this city the smaller the chance that I can go somewhere and be completely anonymous. And I love losing myself in a crowd.
I started to jiggle my foot anxiously, debating about whether or not I should ask boyfriend to take me home when suddenly I relaxed. The new bartender was smiling at me. “Hey, Cate–’nother framboise?” “Later!” I called back. A new acquaintance walked up and put an arm around me. “I’m so glad to see you here!” An old friend walked in and yelled out my college nickname.
For some reason, at this time in my life, I’ve been given a community, and I may never have it again. I’ve been wrestling a lot lately with being content where I am. The possibility of a move has come up several times in the past few weeks and every time it’s been the wrong timing, the wrong situation. I want to keep moving, keep starting over again. I’m good at it. However, while I’m here, shouldn’t I try to love the closeness of familiar people and places? Can’t I learn to love knowing the back streets and the bartender and my neighbors and all the people that work at my favorite burrito place and the shops on the river and the hole in the wall places where everyone knows your name?
I think I can, I think I can, I think I can …
3 Comments
14 May, 2008 at 10:50 am
I totally understand your need for time to yourself. I used to be anonymous more often in high school when I worked downtown and took the bus. It was so easy to slip off and go somewhere for an hour without anyone missing me. In college, I had to break myself of this habit for lack of transportation. That’s why my walks became so precious to me–they were the only way to get away from people without being cooped up in my room. It’s very easy for me to get cynical and distant when I’m not given the opportunity for that personal time. If I can’t get out physically, I mentally put myself in a private space. I admire the fact that you’re trying to embrace the community rather than resist or run away from it. I need to learn to do that more.
Thank you, Lynnette!
16 May, 2008 at 5:52 am
Ahhh, you’re the little engine that could….savor motorcycle rides with Boyfriend and catching up with friends at a pub. It all sounds very idyllic, and I can see why you would be conflicted about starting over.
It’s funny that it can be so hard to stop and enjoy yourself right where you are–it is for me, anyway. But you’re right, I’ve got a lot to savor!
26 May, 2008 at 9:55 am
I love bikes and backstreets. Especially here in France. They tend to be a lot safer than certain parts of the world
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