No, it's a TAPAS bar...

We are aware that it’s been almost a month since our last blog. We’ve been too busy going out on dates instead- not because we actually enjoy them, but so that we’d have stuff to blog about.

Since the next day was going to be Becca’s birthday, and I had a proper date planned, we thought we’d only be stepping out for an hour to see Bill Wright’s Berkshire Veteran’s Photography Project reception at the (surprise, surprise) Lichtenstein.

The show was really something else, especially given that nearly every veteran photographed was there at the reception. The vets we spoke to were a lot of fun, and we learned that there are still flight engineers on commercial airliners. The way my grandfather told it, they’d been extinct for decades. But since he’s dead and we therefore can’t speak ill of him, I’ll blame Uncle David for not correcting my misperception. We also made the pages again, for those of you who’re interested in that sorta thing.

As the event wound down, and we were cleaning up (both of us being unable to sit idly by and watch others do all the work), We were invited by the Wrights to be a part of their entourage and head over to Mission. The initiation hazing wasn’t so bad (Becca’s hair’s growing back nicely), so we accepted.

We mentioned Mission in our first blog. Something about a solid wall of pretension. Well, since no bands were playing, the local hipsteratti weren’t there. We arrived well before the rest of our party, having no children to negotiate, so we headed to the bar, where we ran into another friend (Jess from the Alchemy Initiative) and had a drink with her and a friend of hers (Warren, who makes furniture out of raw wood and birch bark).

We joined or party as they arrived, and enjoyed some Tapas. It is a Tapas bar, after all. For those of you unfamiliar with the term, it simply means a lot of little dishes that you get as a group and pass around the table. It’s good for large gatherings, because everybody gets a little of everything. Of course, we hadn’t planned on staying long, so we just ordered some fries, but our friends (and their friends, and Becca’s new BFF [by virtue of the fact that his family owns a flower farm] Adam) insisted we tried a few items.

We turned in early, though not nearly as early as we had intended. But not before Becca made me pocket every Boylan bottle on the table. She swears by all that is Holy that she’s going to make glasses out of them.