McGrady's

Some of y'all might be wondering why I haven't posted to the blog yet. After all, it was me who sorta got this whole thing started and has been talking about it for months. You might be asking yourself if I will neglect this brain child of mine the way I neglect my fish. I am writing to assure you all that I will not. (Go ahead and breathe your collective sigh of relief now.)

The explanation for my failure to post so far is simple: I have nothing to report. As Michelle articulated so nicely in the lucid half of our introductory post, this blog's purpose is to record our experiences as we venture forth into the world from Charlottesville. The problem I am having is that I have neither ventured forth nor left Charlottesville as of yet.

My current status, professionally speaking, is this: I am stuck in Charlottesville until my ship calls me and tells me when to show up. Until that call I am to stay in Charlottesville and show up to "work" every morning at Maury hall where I am given menial tasks to keep me busy in order, I suppose, to justify my paycheck.

The Navy calls this being "stashed." I think a better term might be "purgatory." I am stuck between the heaven of being a 4th year at The University and the hell (I describe it thus only for the purpose of extending my metaphor) of being a professional naval officer. The worst part about being stuck in this limbo is the loneliness. I can tell you all from experience that the greater part of this town's charm is lost when your friends are absent. It remains comfortable and familiar, but it loses the quality which makes it home.

A short story from my experience will illustrate this loneliness nicely. It is the story of how I came to be sitting alone at the bar at McGrady's with a pitcher of beer in front of me looking for all the world like a young man well on his way to becoming an old alcoholic.

It’s actually a very short story. See what had happened was I thought there was a soccer game at 4:00. The USA national team was supposed to be playing Spain in an international friendly. As pretty much the only soccer fan left in the USA since Amar left I naturally wanted to watch. So I went down to McGrady’s, ordered a pitcher of Killian’s and got them to tune in to ESPN 2. Turns out the game wasn't at 4:00 like the ESPN website had said (it musta had morphed.) Turns out the game didn't start till 5:30. Apparently someone at the ESPN website had some trouble with the time zone conversion from Spain.

So there I was at the bar alone with my pitcher with no game to watch. I realized that there is a huge difference between being alone at a bar watching a game and just being alone at a bar. There is a certain amount of respect due to a guy who goes to a bar alone to watch his team play. He is viewed as a die hard fan - someone who is willing to brave public loneliness in order to support his team. On the other hand, the guy who is just at the bar drinking with no game on can only be viewed as pathetic. I was that guy for an hour and a half. I felt completely alone. In order to occupy myself during that time, I wrote this blog post on my blackberry. I also overheard some older women on the other side of the bar commenting on how much I look like "shitbreak" from American pie. Anyhow, it’s time to stop writing now. The game is finally starting and I am about to order a second pitcher.

So hi from McGrady's, guys! I miss you all!