Monday, January 31, 2011


Everyone knows Summers is the most laid back bar in Arlington, right?

Everyone knows Summers isn't a meat market like Whitlow's or Clarendon Grill or Rhodeside Grill, right?

Everyone knows Summers draws people because they want cheap beer and want to grab a seat and just unload their troubles, right?

Everyone knows that gives me the right to not do up my pants when I come out of the bathroom, right?

Apparently, my favorite thing to do when I'm at Summers is to not keep the goalie in his trapezoid. To put it another way, my favorite thing to do at Summmers is to let the bishop out of his pulpit. To put it another way, my favorite thing to do is to let old McDonald's chicken have the run of the farm yard. To put it another way, my favorite thing to do is to let Obi Wan see the force is strong in me.

I know my manners are terrible, but I appreciate the fact that Summers is a place where I feel comfortable and that Summers is a place where I can be myself and it is a place where I can let it all hang out.


  1. So what you're saying is that Summers isn't a meat market, but rather a meat monopoly, whose spoils (i.e. sweet, solitary tippling and unbothered, contemplative inebriation) shall go to the meatmonger who most effectively drives away all comers with the most cunning display of willful indignity and gross filth? Yeah, that sounds about right.

  2. A room hung with pictures is a room hung with thoughts.

  3. I'm dirty and haven't seen a bath in weeks, but I represent the people. At least people at Summers have the decency not to urinate all over the bar during happy hour - like at other Arlington Bars... I'm looking at you, Kitty O'Sheas.

  4. If it bothers you that much why don't you come over here and do something about it you little punk ass bitch.

  5. I graduated with a degree in history (barely), so I don't know English too well, but I believe that punk-ass should be hyphenated because both words are used as adjectives.

    But Seriously Folks, we're all friends here, because I'm pretty sure my parents aren't reading this, hell, I think I told my parents I hadn't been to Summers in like six months when I saw them over the holidays, so I'm certainly not going to tell them I was just at Summers or that I spend all my free time writing about it, so there's no need to be belligerent.