Falcon Pub. Davie, Florida. August 2011.
I learned long ago not to make snap judgments. About anything. Particularly based upon an exterior view. Judging a book and all that. Take a recent summer day, way down South. I was headed to an event which could only be described as horrid. A drink and some lunch were in order as fortification. Driving about aimlessly in a town I didn't know, I saw a pub sign in a less than well kept shopping center. Strike one, the word "olde" in the name. Also, I admit that the sign on the door precluding sleeveless shirts after 5:00pm was daunting. Momentarily. But since my shirt had sleeves and I was in great need of fortification in anticipation of the rest of the afternoon, I pulled open the door and sallied forth.
The first person I encountered was a black-haired, blue-eyed bartender. Corinne is one of the best ever, but no one to be trifled with. "We aren't really open yet but you are sitting here so I'm going to take care of you." And she did. With great pub food. And, off to the left of the photo, a tartan pull with unlimited draft of Belhaven Scottish Ale. All of which adequately set me up for the remaining events of the day.
Be brave. Try out the Falcon Pub. Tell Corinne the guy in the suit sent you. If you are nice she'll show you her flamingo tattoo.
White Boots: Everybody Is Wearing Them
23 hours ago