Tally marks on the arm side of the wristwatch are what you owe for. Tally marks on the hand side are what other people bought you, so you can be sure how much you’ve thrown down your gullet of a Sunday afternoon.
I bought myself three pints yesterday. Only thing is, the bartender replaced the third with a glass (!) of Bushmills, since I had just bought a round for the entire pub (a reasonably simple affair when there ain’t but a half dozen people in the place and most of them drinking Miller Lite). However, I wound up with another pint, two more Bushmills and some sort of pomegranate tequila (sic…amazingly, not sick) all bought by somebody else. In the grand scheme of things, I think it may have been the cheapest day out drinking ever that wasn’t spent at Ugly’s. I mean, 7 drinks for $40 ain’t bad…and from 3 to 7 in the afternoon no less.
I highly endorse Ireland’s 32, up on Geary in the Richmond, because I don’t think a stranger ever walks through the door. Don’t let all the Sinn Fein/hunger strike/Easter Rising decor fool you; these are friendly folks and no fooling.
The most amazing part of the day, of course, was the fog. Leave Googleburg where it’s sunny and 80 degrees, and forty-five minutes later, you’re standing on a corner that’s gray and overcast with a chill wet wind whipping at you like January. Incredible. I love it and am prepared to move to the city straightaway, real estate and job permitting (which I doubt, sadly).