Mondays are my hard days—I have my hardest classes that span from 1:30 until 9:30pm. To be frank, it blows. And I pretty much work my Italian tush off Friday, Saturday and Sunday, leading up to this tremendous Monday mother load of work. Anywho, Monday night? I’m hungry and ready to consume some sort of liquid that’ll probably eat away at my liver, slowly but surely. But hey, I’m young and I’m living on fumes. It’s wonderful. Salli and I first meet up at Smiths Olde Bar. If it’s not a Friday, Saturday or Sunday (go Steelers!), then it’s pretty much filled with older homosexual men. Immediately sensing the lack of potential male interaction, we mosey over to Hand in Hand, where the waiters know our drinks and our most absurd stories. You can’t go wrong at Hand in Hand. We take two steps inside the door, and immediately a young man approaches us, introduces himself and invites us to join his group. It’s his friend’s thirtieth birthday, and I’m having trouble detecting the amount of alcohol that had been consumed. It’s either not enough, or entirely way too much. After playing 20 questions to figure out what they do for a living, we find out that the whole lot of them are…wait for it, wait for it…Cops. These guys have forever changed my impression of Georgia cops, definitely for the better. After picking their brains about GA law, we relaxed some, and it became another successful S&J night. Of course, we ended up hanging out with Marion, Carlos and Matt, the beautiful bartenders at Hand in Hand.
Go to Hand in Hand, befriend the staff, and you will be happy forever.
love,
june
and have you met us?
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