Raising the bar
Driving around South Bend the other day, I saw a bar called the 19th hole. A golfer's tavern, eh?
It got me to thinking.
What would you call a runners bar? The 27th mile. Mile 27.2. The 6th K. 11K.
These numbers are so arbitrary because you can run a race of almost any distance.
Perhaps The Finish Line.
I know. I've got an idea.
Pheidippides' Place.
I suppose that could work. Those who know would know. Others could just come in and enjoy the atmosphere.
It got me to thinking.
What would you call a runners bar? The 27th mile. Mile 27.2. The 6th K. 11K.
These numbers are so arbitrary because you can run a race of almost any distance.
Perhaps The Finish Line.
I know. I've got an idea.
Pheidippides' Place.
I suppose that could work. Those who know would know. Others could just come in and enjoy the atmosphere.
posted by bl at 4:49 pm
1 Comments:
I've got a drink to mix up and serve at the bar as well.
The bloody nipple.
Now all I need is a recipe.
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