The Value of Perception.

"Life is a succession of lessons that must be lived to be understood" ~ Helen Keller

  An interesting quote from a woman who was deaf and blind. Hindsight leaves me feeling not far from both sometimes.

  Knowing that my one and only goal for the evening is to get obscenely drunk, I call my local taxi to haul me off to a watering hole. No sense in driving there when I know damn well that I'll have no business navigating a two ton manslaughter charge down the road by the time the night is through. I can be responsible sometimes.

  This evenings destination is a place called the Fillmore. Its located in "Historic Downtown Plano".  "Historic" is code word for "Lame". But! It's a nice bar and it gets a pretty diverse crowd every evening. Why not, right?

  With Happy Hour ending, most of the early crowd is filing out so there's ample seating at the bar. The tenders  looked rushed with multiple people paying their tabs and food orders coming up. Patience is a must at these times. Dont wave or yell to your barkeep, this will piss them off. They see you and will be with you when they can.

  Locally this place is known for their wide variety of beer and whiskey. It labels itself an Irish/English bar. Whatever that means... Budweiser only comes in bottles (which I hate) and dont dare ask for a shot of Rumplminze here. Their snooty refined taste in alcohol will leave you with poor service if they deem you unworthy. Found that out through trial and error... Not tonight though! Im ordering up a locally brewed wheat beer made in McKinney and what ever shot under 10 bucks my bartender recommends.

  Yuck and Yuck! This is gonna be tough. Kill the shot because it was the easier one and the beer seemed to taste great after having some 20 years of oak flavored fermentation on my pallet... With that over with, I go for a Stella. Its far from my favorite but it will do in a pinch. If I plan on consuming beer all night these thick beers will never do.

  After many beers and another terrible shot my bartender talked me into, I'm getting bored.  The place is filling up with the type of people I hate. Spiky hairdos, fake tans and WAY to much cologne. Lets not forget the types they're after, blond highlights, fake tans and a camera handy so they can add to the nine hundred pictures they already have on Facebook. Irritated, I tell myself that if one more of these dumb bitches poses with a "kissey face, sideways peace sign" I'm outta here... Ten minutes later I'm heading for the door.

  It turns out the best part about the Fillmore is that it's a stones throw away from the DART.  An energy efficient means of travel on the cheap, straight to downtown! A quick 30 minute ride and I have arrived!

  I always anticipate trouble when I head down here. Almost everyday someone is either getting shot, stabbed, beat within an inch of their life, raped or robbed. The mean streets of Dallas. I like it.

  Steering clear of the club scenes and the trendy pubs I head to the neighborhood of Deep Ellum. Deep Ellum is a little rough. This area of town consists of old warehouses converted into residential lofts, rad mexican food and more rundown shithole bars per capita than any other place in Dallas... Perfect.

  Don't get me wrong, Deep Ellum has its fair share of nice and respectable places but, they cant all be the new hip thing.

  I see a place called the Angry Dog. Has to be interesting at the least. Again, why not... Through the door and I'm hit with the typical tavern smell. Greasy food, cigarettes and beer spilled last week. Jukebox volume is tolerable and it's not packed. It is still early for the downtown area yet but I have a feeling this place isnt gonna be picking up anytime soon.

  A couple of dirtbags anchor the head of the bartop, followed by a long line of empty stools toward the can. It's dark but the neon lighting casts that familiar tavern hue. At the far end of the empty line of stools, sits an incredibly pretty woman. I head that direction.

  Pull up a stool, three down from hers and get a beer. Test the waters on their shot selection and settle on a Jager, double. Furtively glancing towards the pretty girl, while I aimlessly check my phone for the texts/emails/facebook updates that I know aren't there, I feel lame... Fuck it. Time to engage.

  Much to my surprise she initiates conversation first. A simple "Are you from around here?". I grin and say no, not even close... You? Local she tells me. I follow with a nod of approval trying to read her, she follows up with a "tell me about home." as she closes the gap to one stool.

  I set in with Eugene Oregon... You ever been there?  She laughs and says no. I follow with my standard next question. Do you know where Oregon is? Her smile vanishes. "Of course I know where Oregon is! North of California and west of Idaho!"  I apologize and tell her that she'd be surprised how little, people I run into down here actually know their map. She's not, and then goes into a 10 minute tirade on everything from stupid people to politics and the utter disgust she has for the stupid people ruining the political forum. I'm impressed and offer to buy her next round.

  When the bartender came back around I went to order hers but I was cut off by her ordering for the both of us. "Give this guy another double on my tab and put a Cosmo on his."  She looks back over and smiles. Is this girl for real? Intrigue is spiking.

  We carry on with great conversation and more and more drinks. Time flies by as I get informed on Deep Ellum's history and this girls incredible stories of the shit she's gotten herself into. She's articulate, intelligent and getting prettier by the minute. Have I hit the Jackpot? I'm thinking so.

  "One more round!" she calls out as she throws her head back and sighs. She levels here stare at me and says its late.  I agree and ask her if she's calling it a night. She is. She then asks me if I mind walking her home. She tells me she lives close and it would make her feel safer if she had a little protection on her short walk home.

  No wasn't even an option... I play it cool and pay my tab. We finish our last round and get up to make our way through a maze of people at the bar... When the hell did it get so packed in here? Obviously the attendance level was beyond any care I had at the time.

  We get outside and head west towards her place. She's pointing out old places that used to be "theee" place to be. I try to follow along and absorb the information but I cant help but be presumptuous. Where is this gonna end up? Will I end up spending the night with this woman? Am I reading this right? When it comes to batting average, I've been wrong about a situation like this WAY more than I've been right, so humility is key right now.

  As we arrive outside her place I realize I never got her name. I ask it and she laughs out loud. "Jamie!" She says. Yours is Jeff Kaufman. I read it off of the receipt you signed... Impressed again... She asks me if I'd like to come up for a drink... I'd love to...

 "I only have Vodka and Dr Pepper." She says as we climb the stairs to her apartment. "Do they mix well?" I ask.  She laughs, damn near hysterically... Im a little confused. 

  Her apartment was beautiful. It looked straight of a magazine. Smelled amazing and had an incredible kitchen area. Also... A wonderful mini bar area where she quickly goes to work on two cosmos. What does this girl do for a job I wonder?

  Two drinks in hand she approaches and hands me mine. Looking around, about to comment on how tasteful her place is, she says to me "My rate is"... A quick glance and a confused look... "Your rate?' I say...

  It's amazing how fast your mind processes information. Even given an extreme amount of  alcohol. I knew what she was about to say. The events of the evening suddenly took on a whole new meaning... I was the prey... And she was a hooker...

  Humility. An uncontrollable purse to my lips and a look to the side, I decline her "fee". She tries to reason by saying "Just consider it a monetary donation for our time spent together..."

  Well, that would take the sport out of it all wouldn't it? I say... She smiles, nods, sips her drink and digs around in her purse for her "business" card... Her name, number and her website...

  My honesty comes out and I tell her that I'm a little disappointed but I respect her and what she does for a living. I'd be happy to call her next time I'm in the hood but only for drinks. She's into that and we finish ours with recollections of funny shit that happened earlier.

  On my way back to the train I stopped by the Angry Dog for another shot. The bartender saw me and laughed. He knew the whole time and didn't give me a heads up. Our banter back and fourth consisted of a "Well, now you know" kind of theme... Yes... Now I know.

 
"Life is a succession of lessons that must be lived to be understood" ~ Helen Keller