Sherwood’s   3 comments

Well, it was nine years ago today when a girl walked into a bar at 2am and found me standing behind it.  Mind you, I was not “the bartender”, that person, my brother, was sitting on the receiving end of the bar, an otherwise empty local haunt.  It was late on a Saturday night, or early on a Sunday morning, however you look at it.  I can’t recall why I was alone that night, or at that hour…maybe I can recall, and just don’t want to share exactly why.  My mom and dad taught us from a young age that nothing good happens after midnight…well, this time, and maybe the only time, they were wrong.

Three girls came looking for a good time, a crowded bar, and found their way to Sherwood’s instead.  My brother, upon seeing them enter, told me in a not so hushed voice, “tell these nannys they get one round, then we are closed.”  Welcome to Sherwood’s, what’ll it be?  Oh, and this is your last drink you nannys.  It was not every night in this one horse town you see three very attractive (one, particularly good looking), apparently single girls out at 2am, no less at Sherwood’s, so the assumption was they were lost, or nannys, or both.  Speak English?  No?  Even better.

After fumbling with money and not knowing where the Bud Lights were kept in which cooler, the jig was up, and it was clear I wasn’t the bartender…or I was, and just forgot how to use the register all of a sudden.  Anyway, my brother kept his word, it was one round for everyone, and then time to leave.  But not before I shared a little secret with my new nanny friends (none of them were nannies, they all had real jobs, which was more than I could say for myself at the time).  The secret I was going to share was that I knew a “late night” place we could go, where the bartender would surely serve us more than one round before kicking us out.  Enter the “Cellar Bar.”

Maybe it was a mistake, maybe it was meant to be.  But taking 3 first timers to the Cellar Bar is risky…you never know who you might see there…or what might happen.  That can be a good thing too though.  I have, at various times, not been allowed into the Cellar…for short “time outs.”  This week, however, I was good to go.  After parking our cars, (driving to/from Cellar Bar is not endorsed on this blog), we all went in for a few.  The one girl I had my eye on was playing hard to get.  Meaning, she wouldn’t really talk to me.  I had to talk to her friend, who would then talk to her.  It was an involved process.

Before the night drew to an end, I was determined to get this girls digits.  However, she was equally determined not to give them to me.  So, I did what any gentleman would do, I got her other friend to give me her number.  Voila.  I promised to call the next day, so we could go on a “proper” date…a movie.  What movie?  Why, Spanglish, of course.  At least the horrible movie was not an indicator of our future together…right?

Alas, nine years ago, I met a girl who would make me who I am today.  Someone who has stuck by me, good times and bad.  Quite literally.  I love her today, and everyday.

Posted December 18, 2013 by mayday76 in Uncategorized

3 responses to “Sherwood’s

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  1. Ahh, the time outs. Short term frustration equals long term lifesavers.

  2. Voila! Happy quasi-anniversary 🙂

  3. The Cellar really is a double-edged sword. One night it introduces you to the love of your life, the next it leaves you in a ditch. God bless that place.

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