The open bar is a curious creature. It is a rare finding for even the most learned of party-goers and heavy drinkers. If you perchance stumble upon one, there is always a bit of ‘theatre’ one must go through. A ritual, if you will, that needs completion for you to enjoy your night. It is the awkward task of getting your first drink.
Everyone who has been to an open bar knows this dance. Someone tells you that the bar is open or the beer is free and you feel celebratory. But then you doubt your source. What if this person was trying to embarrass you? What if they just got a free beer and assumed it was an open bar? And what if their source was bad? It is a funny little trait, doubt. It pervades every thought, needling its way somewhere behind your eyes, unless you curtail it.
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