A Recent Post: 1220 at 5
Jester reminded me when discussing the same place (small world) on his blog, of my first trip to 1220, the local gay beverage establishment in Walnut Creek, CA. 1220 also played a part in the Great Ballerina Debacle of 2000. My first foray into meeting people online came right after I moved to California. I had just broken up with my girlfriend who decided not to move to California with me after all. That’s now been 7-1/2 years ago, not that I’m counting. Yahoo! Personals was free, which was all I needed to hear. Beat the heck out of going to the bar and hanging out until someone interesting walked by. I knew that would never happen because they were all out hiking Mt. Tamalpais or Mt. Diablo or at hanging out Whole Foods or attending women’s music festivals. I crafted a carefully worded profile and sat back and waited. Eventually, I happened upon a woman who lived very close by. We exchanged emails, spoke on the phone and agreed to meet. She: How about we meet at the 1220? I rarely go there, but it’s close to you. (Showing my age, this is before it was added to the Lesbian Manual to meet at Starbucks for coffee)HAH: Sure, how’s 5 pm?So, I rolled in a little before 5 because I worked about two minutes away and basically left whenever I wanted (I love California), walked in and grabbed the latest Bay Area Reporter before sidling up to the bar. This was the kind of place where wine choices were limited to “red” or “white.” I asked the bartender what the beer options were, made my selection, and started reading. A few minutes later, I decided to look around. It was a very small, dark, and somewhat dingy club. One in which I wished to God I’d remembered my hand sanitizer before touching the bar or at least arrived when it was much darker.* It had a little dance floor and next to it two pool tables. Turns out they fold the pool tables up before the dancing starts and rolled them into a storage area under the DJ booth. They’d pull them out again for the day time trade and re-level them—always with mixed result. Let’s just say I’d never bet any money on a game I played on one of those tables. The bartender was a tall, good looking guy rippling with muscles, whom I was sure was very popular with the boys who stopped in. He went about washing glasses and checking liquor stock. Then, I went back to my paper. As she walked through the door, I saw the bartender reach for something in the cooler. She walked up next to me at the bar. We made our introductions and she added:She: Gosh, I just don’t come in here often. (I’m thinking Whole Foods girl)She sat down. The bartender silently placed the Bud Lite in his hand before her.She looked at me with a totally busted look on her face and I laughed. And, that’s how I met my best friend, Viv. *1220 has been remodeled and looks pretty damned nice!She is a friend of mind. She gather me, man. The pieces I am, she gather them and give them back to me in all the right order. It’s good, you know, when you got a woman who is a friend of your mind. ~Toni Morrison, Beloved Visit Lori at Hahn at Home
