Two years ago, I met a guy who had just moved here from a flyover state. He had spent the last few years living on a farm in the middle of nowhere. He loved the idea of finally living in a city, of being in DC. For our 4th date, I wanted him to think I was cool. I wanted him to think that I knew the best places to go, the quintessential DC experience.
So after some half smokes at Ben’s Chili Bowl, I took him to Bohemian Caverns. I had never been before, but I acted like I knew what was up. I let him order the wine, even though we both knew that I was the wine lover of the two of us. I sipped my bad wine, pretended that I was into jazz. I was “that girl.” I was a fraud.
I’m marrying that guy next year. I stopped pretending to be cool. I’m sad about this place closing for purely selfish reasons.
Last year, the bar where we met burned down. That one hurt a lot more. That was my bar. After some time, it was our bar.
It’s a little freaky to try and build a future with someone when your past keeps burning down behind you!