Happy Hour

After work go with the Contessa and Susan to get drinks (before
leaving, the Contessa very sternly asks Susan whether or not she is old
enough to drink, eventually making susan produce her drivers license.
The Contessa sniffs and says that Well, she doesn't want to get fired
for giving drinks to underage girls. Think this is blowing things far
out of proportion but, naturally, don't say so.) We all agree that are
extremely Tired of all places in neighborhood (too crowded, too Fratty,
too expensive, that one time we went to the French Roast the soup had a
slick of grease, that one has the crotchety eastern european waitress
&tc.) Propose going to newish restaurant with unpormising name Scoopy's
Seafood Shack. Name not only unpromising, location of restaurant
evidentally cursed as over past 6 years, 8 restaurants have occupied
space. Witnessed arrival and departure of" two French restaurants in a
row (the first more bistro food, the second hewed closer to North
African influenced French) an extremely short lived sushi resturant,
Southern Barbeque, another french place that had a jazz theme, a
Mexican place called La Cantina, something called Gabble & Gobble
(never darkened the door of that place), and finally Scoopy's. Would
not, at all, be surprised to learn restaurant built over indian burial
ground--when enter, see that one booth and two bar stools occupied.
This par for course for location. Walls covered with shadow boxes
displaying fishing paraphinalia--flies, hooks, spars, butterflies (?),
old books. Walls also decorated with taxidery fish, maps and rusty Olde
gas station signs. Feel sur that will be offered laminated menu listing
mixted drinks featuring lots of Kaluah. Something similar must strike
the Contessa because after two drinks and heavy gossip and backbiting
about the Vice-Boss and the New Man, the contessa says that she feels
that we are the Secretaries gone out to get happy hour drinksTGI
Friday's. Feel that--though true--this very very unhappily put.