We prefer nice people.

Both Salli and I are recent college graduates. She stayed in her home state and attended her state university. I ventured out of state and graduated from a small liberal arts college. I’ve realized that my alma mater, lets call it Aloha College (that sounds fun), really provided me with a skewed view of what the ‘real world’ was like. Being such a small school, everybody knew everybody, and every bit of dirt and rumor about them. Consequently, on a rare occasion, when one did meet somebody new, all you had to do was turn to the person to your right and then Bam, you knew whether or not they could be trusted, who they’ve slept with, and what kind of social economic background they originated from. It was strangely and fictionally bizarre. Since we’ve begun meeting truck loads of people, I’ve realized that I really don’t know anything about these people. Sometimes we’ve invited them into our homes, sometime’s we’ve given them rides, sometimes we’ll end up at someone’s apartment. Although this is very normal for a socially active single, the idea that these people could figuratively fuck you over, it is a bit unnerving.

Be careful out there… I know that I am naïve, trust easily and love quickly (not necessarily romantically, but just in general). It’s very rare that I’m not with a wingwoman (unless I’m hiding behind a book at the Porter or Brick Store), which acts like one of those huge foam bicycle helmets that special little kids wear to keep you from unwillingly cracking your brain on some boy’s bed frame. (Graphic much?)

Yours truly,

June

Exploring Little Five

I’m intrigued with Little Five Points and Cabbagetown, but I always feel like it’s best enjoyed when you’re a local. I tried to feign a sense of locality last night. I brought my sketchbook and current book for pleasure (ohh yeaa). I walked down Euclid, and casually and turned and entered The Porter. Immediately I was in love. It’s a small, skinny and long pub that is low, but well lit. Besides the bartender with the quietly pretty face, I was the only girl, and definitely the youngest (this is not why I loved it… I’m not a prowler).  I was surrounded by educated, classically dressed and socially liberal minded young gentlemen. The bar only had craft beer and liquor (thank goodness for the vacation from PBR and Miller High Life). I ordered a seasonal, dark, nutty beer that I had never heard of before, and it was absolutely delicious. The gentlemen next to me had ridden in on his Vespa and was wearing a tweed suit. After eaves dropping some, I learned that he had taught at Harvard and now is retired and lectures by invitation at Georgia Tech. A friendly young man, sitting a few stools down (that sounds funny) heard that this was my first time at The Porter and that I was relatively new to Atlanta, which apparently warranted him buying me a beer. I never turn down free alcohol. It was a completely casual, no obligation, civil gesture, which was refreshing.

This might become a regular week-day spot for me. Look for me behind “On the Road” or behind the apple. 

Have you met us?

June