for the overworked and underpaid, maybe we go to relax. a few pints, like medicine, to calm the nerves all wound tight after another day of taking orders, taking blame, taking time away from what we'd really rather be doing.
for the outcasts or awkward, maybe it's to feel a bit of camaraderie. to sit elbow to elbow, staring at the same muted show on the same tv and drinking, just maybe, the same fine mix as those beside us- in a world where we spend a lot of time on the outskirts of groups, or illusions of groups.
for the lovesick and romantics, maybe it's an attempt to make a real connection: we might hope an interesting stranger may wonder in and have to sit in the empty stool beside our own... and maybe make more sense than anything has thus far.
for the artists and thinkers, it could be simply to observe. to notice nuances, to pick out the phonies, to overhear conversations and watch the movements of the whole, and its parts.
most of us, it seems, go to be among the many, and want to gain in some way from their presence. perhaps the drink is just an excuse. if a place kept the environment completely in tact, but switched our whiskey for a good herbal tea how many of us would we really mind?
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