More than a year of practicing teetotalism and I am happy to report that I don't miss the sauce at all. Perhaps I got enough of hanging out at bars when I was young and reckless, which was when I took this photo at a small little bar in the basement of building on a narrow street. Never understood why, but there wasn't really a sign for the place. You had to know where it was to find it. It was always my late, late, late night place, when other bars closed and I was still going. I remember a few times in the summer walking out from the place to open the door to painfully blinding sunlight.
The owner, Kon-chan, was a good guy and always had stories to tell to the handful of people who could fit in the small space, which was covered in posters and little trinkets that he had gathered. If you needed a topic of conversation, something would catch your eye and away the chat would go.
But, those were the days of my youth. Now I go to bed before most of these kinds of bar even open, which is a good thing.