Look into my Eyes
If the old maxim of eyes being windows into the soul holds any sway, then to extend it further would include the eyes and the face betraying one's contempt for others.

There's no real need to rehash my own dislike for bar culture which seemingly is the perpetual engine the fuels the side of town I live on. Without the endless number of bars and other establishments that serve alcohol, I'm sure the South Side would dry up and whither away like some windswept dustbowl circa the Great Depression. (If only John Ford were still around to direct the remake.) Regardless, I realize they fulfill a function and keeps the money flowing to a certain degree. However, for all the benefits, one also must suffer the ill effects of having a bar or two located on each and every block. With all the variety, one would assume that it's possible to locate a bar that measures up to snuff and allows one the freedom one, namely me, would expect. I'm still looking.

On a very, very infrequent night out, I was reminded why exactly I despise going to bars. I only went to two places, and they were fine, but it seems that there's one or more characteristic that rears its ugly head to do nothing but confirm my.....I had more to say, hell, I had it written, but for some reason Blogger chose to fail me here. I'm not even going to attempt to rewrite this post because I know I can't do it again word for word. So, just imagine what else I might have written.