Mrs. Noisewater and I were at a book sale outside of a church on Sunday, and I picked up a book called "The Chicago Way" about a private detective in Chicago. As it turns out, the character in the story drinks too much at too many bars - just like me!
At one point he references Kelly's Pub. Hey, I've been there! The managers there love heavy metal and were cranking up some Diamond Head for me the last time I was in there. They also sold my buddy, Night Train, a rogue tall boy of Coors Light that he spotted in the fridge and no one working there had any idea how it got there . . .
Another time the main character winds up ordering a Guinness at Cullens. I know that place too. For whatever reason, it was the best bar to go to on a Sunday night if you happened to have that Monday off, decided to just take it off, or simply wanted to drink like an animal on a Sunday. My partner in crime back then always seemed to get lucky there on a Sunday, but it just wasn't a good home game to me. He would actually get laid totally randomly. late afternoon on a Sunday, and I had to tip my cap to him.
Later the author makes mention of The Hidden Shamrock. Come on! That's just down the street from me, and I have been there dozens of times. The bartender in the story was a full blown Irish gal with the accent and everything, but when I was going there regularly it was an Irish American red-head. We had a thing one night (on a Sunday!) but it turns out she was just using me while she was on a break from her boyfriend. But, whatever, us boys don't get as upset about being used because it's like, hey, I got laid, right? We're pretty simple beings when you come right down to it . . .