Places hold memories. That is not uncommon, nor unexpected really. What is unexpected is the force with which the memories can hit you when you enter a place.
I have mentioned before my affinity for The Patterson House, Nashville's homage to Prohibition-era cocktails, couture, and way of life. In this old-fashioned establishment popular with the hip-and-trendy crowd, I feel at home. The traditionalist in me loves it.
So did one of my former best friends.
Together, this was our unofficial official place for cocktails and conversation. We had some of our most deep and meaningful conversations while perched on the barstools watching James, our favorite mixologist, craft creations seemingly out of thin air.
And now we are no longer friends. But The Patterson House remains, beckoning Nashvillians who want more out of their evenings than vodka tonics and shots of Fireball. It beckoned me and a new group of friends on Saturday evening.
I was excited, because one of our group had never been before (he is new to town). I always need a good excuse to show off my favorite places to new people. I busied myself with chatter of the blue curtain, the house rules, and the Japanese ice molds.
But when I ordered a cocktail I had discovered with Former Friend, it was a lot harder than I thought it would be. I ended the evening with my signature drink, The Bacon Old Fashioned, and instead of getting teased for drinking such a manly drink, the guys each ordered one too, initiating me into their club.
I should've loved it. I should've savored every moment. Instead, I felt like I'd been sucker-punched. How could I enjoy something with such good memories attached with someone else? Is that part of growing up? Learning to enjoy life with different people?
Maybe. Or maybe it's just learning to savor the sweet concoctions of life with new people and new attitudes. Maybe what's old can become new again.
And maybe The Patterson House will always hold a special place in my heart, no matter whom I chose to drink with.
No comments:
Post a Comment