Last week we had our last regular game of the season for darts. It was away at a bar in a neighborhood I never go to. LW and I begged a ride from fellow teammate AJ and waited to meet him and P. at McCrossen's. They were having a fancy dinner that night and T. was kind enough to give us a little taste of one of the dishes. Oysters with a cucumber something kind of something - I wasn't there when they were delivered so I didn't hear the full description. It was a nice little lagniappe.
Our competitors were a group of dudes very comfortable with themselves and their bar. The bar itself I liked, all Christmassed up and with a whole back room for darts. I liked that they wrapped their air conditioner.
Their food offering was a little sad. But maybe I would have liked it better had J. not told me that it was a bag of industrially frozen meat balls with a few jars of Ragu warmed up in a crock pot.
It was a close match but in the end we lost by one game. That, however, didn't matter all that much as LW learned...in this series of photographs her 'sources' are telling her who won what in our division. Meanwhile K. and T. are bro-ing it out in the background.
Right here is the moment when LW learns that the team has made the playoffs.
It was a funny night. Our opposite team wasn't overly friendly and seemed bent on misunderstanding many of us. I ended up in a conversation with one guy in which he insisted I was judging him and his bar and his neighborhood and thinking them all 'dive-y.' When, in fact, I was thinking that the bar had a nice feel to it. It was kind of weird. And by that I mean, it was weird.
We then returned to McCrossen's for a few rounds of late night darts.