Key Takeaways: I know a lot of creative names for weed Vitals: Name: Ace because he is a Veterinary Technician (Vet Tech for short) and it reminded me of Ace Ventura Pet Detective Length of date: 1 hour 45 minutes How the date was obtained: I was set up! Again! Where: The Berkshire House. Dun Dun Duuuun! (dramatic sound effect.) I’m up for going to a bar every now and then, as long as I don’t end up holding back a friend’s hair as they check the toilet’s manufacturer: Kohler I assume? Excellent choice. Lots of people love to meet at bars and do things like watch Sunday Night Football, throw a couple brewskis back with their homies, and eat bar food. Although soft pretzels, pizza, and nachos are my jam; drinks are not. My body just seems to reject alcohol. Consequently, I’m not a regular at any bar, especially during this dirty ‘Rona era, where it seems like the drunker you get the more you forget that we’re all trying to survive a pandemic. Still, when Ace suggested we meet at a bar near my home, I threw caution to the wind and said I’d be happy to try the place! Hey, I’m a flexible gal. What’s the worst that could happen? Well, I’ll tell you. First, I want to make something super clear: Ace is a gem. He’s very easy-going, a cutie, and has an extremely selfless job helping animals. He is the type of sweet guy who smiles with his eyes, or “smizes” as @tyrabanks says. And actually, our conversation flowed nicely despite some logistical challenges. We talked about how we both grew up in Portland and the mutual friends who set us up. He’s truly an amazing guy and I'm lucky I got to meet him. That being said, I will never go back to the evil, evil Berkshire House, or as I like to call it, The BS House. I don’t think I’m exaggerating when I say that the BS House is a place where joy goes to die and the coronavirus goes to thrive. Pardon this unscheduled interruption: Dear CDC, if you’re reading this. Please investigate The Berkshire House. Thank you. From, two concerned Los Angelinos: Isabel and Ace. When I first arrived at the BS House, I noticed the bar was empty, “strange,” I thought, “I must be the first one here?” I texted Ace and he quickly appeared half a block in front of me. We exchanged masked greetings and he explained that the BS House had temporarily set up shop in their parking lot. At least we’d be sitting outside, right? We headed toward the parking lot/bar and as we walked closer, we noticed something crazy: dozens of people were right next to each other, but there wasn’t a facemask in sight, even on the staff. I held my breath as we made our way through the crowd. Being closer than 6-feet from strangers, especially those without masks, just makes me uncomfortable now. Eventually, Ace picked one of the only open tables. It was two feet from another group with eight people who were happily passing around a joint. Call me crazy, but I thought people were supposed to smoke that 420 grass in private, not public places. With the stagnant air and reefer smoke, I was pretty much getting hotboxed. A note about me: I don’t usually partake in the good cush, herb, stinkweed, skunk or whatever you want to call it. I’ve tried several times and in fairness, I don’t know what I’m doing when it comes to getting high. One time, I took a hit of that broccoli and I insisted to my friends, “Call the hospital" and "I'm too young to die!” Another time, I took a bite of Mary Jane’s brownie, didn’t feel anything right away so I had another big bite, then another bigger one. I woke up at 3:00 AM so high and dizzy I had to crawl to the bathroom. The last time, a took a hit from a doobie or as I like to call it, a doobie doobie do, I immediately fell asleep. So back to the BS House where that group was sitting two feet away, passing around the ganga and coughing in each other’s faces. Sitting next to people using “worst practices” tightened a knot in my stomach. After a mask-less waitress took our order, Ace distracted me with his inspiring animal stories. Again, I really enjoyed talking to Ace, he is a kind, selfless man. Suddenly, I spotted a clean table that had more space around it. I asked Ace if he’d be okay moving and he was thrilled to get away from our BS hotbox situation. Now, I’m just going to list what happened in order because this is already a long post, but I want to go on the record with a few more juicy details: - Right after we moved, a group of 30+ people sat down next to us - A basketball game ended and some very techno/EDM/Swedish House music started blasting - We watched the food we’d ordered be delivered to the group in front of us - After 90-minutes with no food, we decided to leave - We paid the waitress for our drinks, she apologized, and we left - Ace walked me to my car and probably heard my stomach growling - I drove by myself to Shake Shack and got a shroom burger Not gonna lie, this was a rough one. Both Ace and I tried to roll with the punches, and I think we did a good job. No one was harmed during the making of this date – and I know this because I just got a COVID test and it came back “negative.” Ace reached out afterward and suggested we try again at a different location. I like that idea, but plan to research the restaurant’s safety policies beforehand, either that or wear a super sexy hazmat suit. Overall Experience: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ for Ace and you already know for The BS House The future for us… I would definitely be open to another date with Ace! Next Week: We went to see stand-up comedy... in a car
Isabel
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