...but my darling, when I think of beer. Today was a minor heartache, due to staffing issues on the job, I was unable to take a day off to attend this year's McLean Avenue street festival. It was a flawless day, the perfect day to be wandering up and down the tavern-lined street, a block-and-a-half from home, drinking pints of beer and browsing at not only the local eateries but vendor booths from outside the neighborhood... a Scotch egg here, a chimichurri-sauced gauchoburger there, sample shots of Jamesons from the liquor store's distributor. It was always a stellar day to go out, to meet friends and family, and to maintain a low-key beer buzz for hours before shuffling home... but not for me, not this year.
Getting out of Yonkers wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, there were some minor traffic snarls as people cruised for parking, but no major setbacks. I can't even complain much, because I had a very fun day at work (and here I am, sober as a Pioneer), which will be tomorrow's blog post- I left my charger/connector cord at home, so I can't upload photos from my phone right now. It was pretty much a festival on the job.
The post title is taken from a song which is probably getting some play at the **SOB** McLean Avenue post-festival revelry:
Saturday, September 21, 2019
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