Recently I was asked if there’s any one place I always go. Let’s just say that I had a response well prepared: the Bitter End.
I was introduced to this bar by the Accidental President himself, where he knew of other intelligent and like-minded individuals whose presence I quickly became accustomed to. Though I’d occasionally opine during the rounds of weekly trivia, they were already known to regularly win the $30 grand prize- I would just tag along for the ride.
The group has changed a bit in the past few years, and among them are some of the best friends I’ve ever made, with adventures such as backseat fight night, a trip to Santa Barbara and many a keg of Marin’s finest ale. Some of them are in bands, several of whose performances I’ve been a spectator. When I used to live in the Richmond district, they were neighbors, with whom great and noble ideas were forged over coffee at 5am.
It’s interesting to think of how parallel our lives can be to a TV show, being indelibly linked by a common place despite our different backgrounds. The group may evolve, the dialogue and costume may change, but the set stays the same. And the drinks are as stiff as ever.
Seinfeld has Monk’s, Cheers has (obviously) Cheers, we’ve got the Bitter End. And even if we end up there on the worst of nights, the name seems oddly appropriate.
