This Is Not My First Dive Bar

But you wouldn’t know by the way I’m treated in them.

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Photo by Matthew Henry on Unsplash
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Photo by Hatim Belyamani on Unsplash

Maybe learning bar etiquette and survival doesn’t seem like much of a goal.

But for me, at the time, It was a sense of accomplishment I needed after leading a sheltered life. I made friends with bar tenders and door men, and felt safe in spaces where I could dance and let loose.

Fast forward to today.

In Austin, there’s music everywhere, so I don’t even have to darken the door of dive bars, unless I want to. Sometimes I want to. When I do, I still feel the same sense of coming home. Until, someone decides to “help” me. Mind you, I am not in need of this “help.” I promised myself many years ago that I would never be the alcohol soaked, rode hard and put up wet, older woman in the bar. Maybe that’s the problem. I don’t look like I know my way around any dive bar I enter.

Psychotherapist, Hypnotherapist. Leans Left. Mindfulness practioner before it was cool. M.Ed., LPC.

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