I don't have the answers yet, but I have learned enough to be dangerous, and ask better questions..

It was 10:30 PM, humid and hot, and I was on the way home from rehearsal. I dreaded going home and staring at my hot red bottle of wine, presently sulking on my kitchen counter. Life sucks with no A/C and 90+ temps.

I am working as a stage manager for a play set in my last home state of Texas. I swear, I know the characters in the play. I lived next door to people crazier than the bunch the playwright dreamed up. But I know exactly where he got his material, believe me. He calls it Maynard, Tx. I call it Frisco, Tx.

Anyway, after a delectably funny run-through last night, I decided to stop for a drink on the way home. I had no child to run home to as my daughter is hanging out in Texas right now with her father, a character I've yet to see cross the stage or screen, buy lordy, he's hilarious.

Hope he doesn't read blogs...mine especially.

So I cruised my little burg, looking for a suitable spot for a 10:30 PM nightcap. Many places had folded up for the night. Others were pumping rap. The bad thing about Santa Barbara is that many bars are for the UCSB crowd, so if you're over 22, it's not really your scene. I hung out in a few of these joints one Halloween night, and the cutest and hottest 22 year-old guy did hit on me,  but I was 32 at the time, and just couldn't make myself do it.

I was a total idiot. He'd have been so much fun.

Sigh.

Well, nothing like making up for lost time...

I passed by all the little teeny bop joints, and decided on a cozy little place on a side street, the Blue Agave. I went in, had a Blue Coyote margarita, and surveyed the other patrons at the bar. A threesome next to me was tucking into what looked like a marvelous dinner. A couple on the other side of me were hushedly talking to one another, and 2 women sat at the far end of the bar.

I tried to scare up a conversation with the bartender, but he was busy. It was a lot of work to meticulously make these brown sugar rum thingys called mojitos. I thought the combination of rum and sugar sounded too much like Haiti to me, and too much like bad hangover potential, so I wisely stuck to my margarita. The man of the couple next to me said that I was looking at them in disgust as he was giving her a rather overly affectionate hug. I didn't realize I'd done that, and apologized profusely. After all, I am one of PDA's most ardent practitioners. We immediately recognized one another as friend potential (as you only do when meeting complete strangers in a bar). They were from LA, up for a little break, wasn't it nice....and before long we were talking about the secrets to the Universe, Life, and Everything. I think we did astrology, the inter-connectedness of everything, some Rumi, some Khalhil Gibrain,...you name it.

And he started buying all my drinks.

Now, you are thinking, um Sharon, WARNING! They could be trying to get you drunk for a swing session, watch out. But I smelled they were good peeps, and they were, and we had an incredibly deep conversation which was in full righteous swing when the bartender turned up the lights and closed the bar suddenly. I discovered that 3.5 hours had passed, and it was 2:00 AM. How did that happen???? I swear I was only there for 10 minutes!

Somehow I had ripped through four(!) blue coyote margaritas. I paid my bar tab: $9.00 for one drink. The nice gentleman of the couple had picked up my other three. Gawd that was a lot of fun for $9.00! I went home, and slept in till 10:30 this morning.

I LOVE nights like that!

With our recent humid heat wave, it's been feeling like a Texas summer, instead of a California one.

A little Texas in Santa Barbara. A little Texas in me. Throwing a big drunk (that's what we used to call them) and making the best bosom buddies out of complete strangers. Oh I love that kind of life. Even for just one night....