Notes from the Desk

Author: Joe Bergan

Last year there was only one thing that was certain. Every Thursday night I would accompany my friends of legal drinking age at nine or ten o'clock to the Grille. I arrived at the Juice Bar in a fury of excitement. I was in! The warm music of the "chill" band surrounded me, for that moment I was in heaven, no better yet, I was in Pub Night. Being underage, I ordered a passion fruit strawberry smoothie. The bartender's only visible emotion was sheer annoyance as he grabbed the fruit juice, yogurt and strawberries.

Those around me, well, their faces turned ugly and they shuffled uneasily on their feet. I am clearly messing up the flow of their exclusive occasion.

A breathy sigh is released behind me. As I produced my debit card, I noticed the line of five behind me, others trying to flank my position to my right and left. I signed the wet receipt, I grabbed my cool refreshing smoothie and ran.

Oh, how I waited! How I waited for the day when I could leave my debit card at home, bring two forms of identification and slip into a neon bracelet.

All summer I plotted. I coordinated jeans and polo, sneakers and watch, just to show I could accept my two free drinks.

Alas, for me and the multitudes thereafter, the will be no free drink Pub Night. No quick spot to wet my whistle before the plunge into that Thursday night abyss. They say it is too expensive, the local bars are upset. What about us? What about the lost generation? Curse my gifted genes! Curse you mother for placing me into kindergarten at age five! But most importantly, curse you local bars! Do you not realize what you've done!

The point of Pub Night was to drag people to one place for a free drink and entice them with more drinks at your establishment. I know this - something is wrong when the school will not buy me alcohol. I guess Angela's will just be a little more sober for us all.