Hi! Welcome to the Alphabetical Happy Hour! No, no, you’re not late. I know, parking sucks. But we saved you a chair. Come on, squeeze in.
I’m not a chef or bartender or a restaurant critic or even a particularly sophisticated drinker. I wouldn’t know a fine champagne if someone hit me over the head with it before launching me into sea. I’m just a girl with a dream — or rather, an oddball New Year’s Resolution.
I’m a lifelong Baltimorean who, during a brief exile in Washington, D.C., liked to waste time at the office reading the WaPo’s Going Out Gurus chat. During one such chat for which I cannot find a link, one poster told a tale of how she and her friends were doing an alphabetical happy hour. Throughout the calendar year, they went to a different bar every two weeks, starting with A in the beginning of January and hopefully getting to Z by the end of December.
I’ve been in a bit of a rut with my usual favorites (Why the ugly redesign, Cosmopolitan Grill?) so instead of an amorphous “try new things” New Year’s Resolution, the Alphabetical Happy Hour was born. Blogging about it is another way to force me to stick to it, plus a way to shout into the blackness of the Internet when I eventually need to find a bar that starts with Q. But that’s a ways off.