Why Be Good?

This is a question which we all have, at one time or another, asked of ourselves. The answer will vary from individual to individual, but the question remains eternal. Why Be Good, indeed? Especially when the lure of convivial company and a martini or two are present. Why go home early, study my lines for acting class and go to sleep early? Why Be Good?

Amidst the bustle and excitement of the 900 pound delivery of new bulk bins at work, the marvel that the huge multi-layered cardboard box created (it is really is in the running for the ninth wonder of the world, right up there with the Sphinx and the Colossus of Rhodes), Holly arrived and informed me that she was going downstairs to have a pint of La Conner IPA and await Matt's arrival within the hour. Why Be Good and go home when I can have a few drinks and hang out with Matt and Holly? Being easily lead, I succumbed to temptation and soon departed from work and went downstairs to meet Holly.

Michael's was not exactly busy. I counted six tables at most during the time we were there and Holly reported that most of the staff seemed to be hanging around the bar talking. I heard Michael's voice but never actually saw him. Given the rumours which are flying and staff cut-backs and the general slowness, this is not a good sign. We will all cross our fingers and hope for the best, doing our little bit in support of the enterprise.

Which brings me to a digression: what this town needs is a good Algonquin Roundtable. Since it is highly unlikely that there exists a good Algonquin of any sort within the confines of the city limits, we will settle for a good roundtable. Or, rather, we will settle for a place to host a good roundtable and any Algonquin that happens to wander in will be made welcome. Such a place is hard to find in this town.

After an hour of converesation, it became apparent that the Question of Matt needed to be resolved. By this I mean, more fully, The Question of Whether Matt Knew Where To Meet Us. It was in grave doubt. Calls to the IBB found him to be gone. Holly made a call to Matt's place and the Question was resolved when Matt joined us a few minutes later.

We adjourned to a larger table and I ordered a very nice dish of pasta and sausage, another martini and Matt and Holly had more IPA. The conversation ranged around for a while, as conversation is wont to do out here in the West. It was Free Range conversation, though I doubt we could get it organically certified. We noticed the arrival of LSD Mike and someone from the college and we endeavored not to look in his direction lest we be seen and joined. An overheard snippet of LSD Mike's conversation involved table-sized footprints in the/a forest. Your guess is as good as mine.

At some point I said:
"We're all faking it. Some of us are doing it more convincingly than others."

Just after 9.00 pm we decided to head over to Peake's before they locked the place up at 9.59. Outside it was quite a warm night, unlike the night previous with its false promise of snow. Weather, I am convinced, comports itself like a Jezebel. Three Inches of Blood was playing at the upside and we massed through a throng of Metal Kids and onwards to Peake's which, to our suprise, was pretty busy. No early closing this evening. Matt and Holly had a winter ale and I had a Sessions in "the little cute bottle." I will vouch for the bottle's smallness of stature and precocious charm. The Sessions wasn't a great beer, but it was a pleasant, light beer and just what I wanted. After all, Why Be Good?