It was about this time each week that a small, dedicated gang of derelicts and drunks would haunt the doorway of one particular bar in town.
One-by-one we would usually ease into our table on the patio or in the booth at the back where we could sit, drink and talk without being bothered. Sometimes it was only me and another. Otherwise we had a crowd that took up an entire section.
But always there was someone tending the light each week for those who might not make it out.
Usually chex-mix and chips were demanded after we finished off a slew of bourbon and beers. Once the band was playing and at least one bottle of Old Crow had been consumed came our final demand of the place;
The band would collectively roll their eyes knowing that, yes, they would be playing House of the Rising Sun again this week.
Maybe it was Mardi Gras and coverage from New Orleans or the fact that, for once, I am sitting at home on a Wednesday with nothing to do. Mostly it has to be that my credit card company sent me a "year-end wrap-up" of my credit card. The one I used at Harry's. The report shows, in a long multi-paged list, every time I went to the place and how much I spent.
It even has a pie chart and bar graph to ad visuals to my final tabs at this place.
It was a nice reminder of home from an unexpected place and the people who rallied there each Wednesday.
Oh yeah... and one more thing...