The Critical 'I'

Read. React. Repeat.

Sunday, February 15, 2004

SUNDAY NIGHT CRUISIN' BLUES
I just stepped out to run an errand. It turned out the store was already closed. So I took the opportunity to hit a couple of bars in the short-distance vicinity of my house, to see what was happenin' in the 'hood.

Came up empty. I stopped by a Benigan's, by a new place I've been meaning to hit called The Rack, and the default Ale House. All of them were dullsville, baby. Total waste of time to even step through their doors.

I suppose I could have ventured further afield, to downtown St. Pete, the beaches, or Tampa. But I wasn't really in the mood to do a hard-target search for... I'm not sure what, which was part of the point. I'm not in the mood to go out partying. I guess I just felt like planting my ass on a barstool, having a couple of drinks, and being surrounded by human activity. Interesting human activity.

This is all a little disheartening, since I recently got through defending this area as a hip, happen' place to be. I mean, if this is a bustling metro area, it stands to reason that you can step out the door at night and find some action.

Maybe I shouldn't expect much from a Sunday night. Prime time is Friday and Saturday, with the rest of the week a crapshoot. That's pretty much the case everywhere. Still, I'd like to expect some entertainment.

I think what deflated me most was the driving around--it's a drag. One distinct advantage to living in New York, San Francisco or other compacted cities is that you can just walk from spot to spot, and it's a delight. In other cities, you have to drive all over the place. It's harder to just flit from one place to another, looking for what's going on--when you're driving, it makes more sense to have specific destinations in mind. And that's often inhibiting.

Oh well. There's always the rest of the week.