I’m sorry I used you as an outdoor office, Wonderland Ballroom.
Bike troubles forced me to commute on foot, and I was running late to get a call from this guy. When I was walking by the bar, pining for a cold beer, my phone started ringing. I had no choice but to grab one of your empty tables, open my laptop and start furiously taking notes. When a server came over to see if I needed something, I waved him off like an insane person.
And then, when I was done, I snuck off without even buying a drink! Not cool.
I know I’ve been down on your quality as a bar lately — too goddamn crowded — but you saved my bacon yesterday. Plus, who can deny the beery nostalgia. You were always there for me in college, when Columbia Heights seemed like a distant and terrifying place. It’s not right to use your tables and scarper.
P.S. Nice blog.