It’s 12:00 on a Saturday and the regular crowd still hasn’t shuffled in. According to Billy Joel, they should have been here hours ago.
Something odd has happened in Hoboken since the turn of the New Year. I’ve gone to a couple of my favorite hangs only to find a whole new crowd. Now I have nothing against this shift in population per se, provided those who are coming around are cool. At least this is not the case as in the past of spill over from the high-end meat-market clubs.
These new people dress like me, drink like me. They’re not ordering Apple-tinis or Fuzzy Navels or Sex on the Beach. They’re swiggin’ whiskey and sucking down cheap beer. They’re playing pool and laughing and checking their attitudes at the door. The only real difference is that they’re younger than me but that’s bound to happen over time.
What is strange however is how few of the regulars from my crowd are around anymore. In the past, when regulars would avoid bars due to inclement weather, the bars would be empty. Yet lately, the places are absolutely packed. So where are my friends? Did they find a new bar? Have they joined a cult or been abducted by aliens? I’m not the only one to wonder this.
Each time I was out there were one or two of my friends standing around and looking just as bewildered as me. The first ten minutes or so of our conversation would inevitably focus on the whereabouts of our crowd. Then we’d ponder the possibilities of the existence of a new bar, a parallel universe, a tear in the space/time continuum … sorry, I’ve been watching a lot of Star Trek lately.
If I may be permitted to keep the cheesy sci-fi metaphors going, this is like some kind of Twilight Zone episode. Not long ago the jaded me would’ve complained endlessly about this strange phenomenon, but the curious me has overpowered that other me and is actually excited about meeting these new people. I’ve been saying the Hoboken needs an injection of new blood in the areas of music, art, film, etc.; perhaps one in the patrons will do a world of good for our little city.
Now, to find that younger version of me and tell him to get his act together.
