There was a bar. Outside of town. Just beyond city limits technically; this allowed them to avoid a few laws or something like that. But nobody gave a damn about that and they called this their favorite bar in town.

It was my favorite bar in town. In fact it was the only bar in town.

They overcharged you on every

beer

except for 

Busch Light

, on which for some reason they charged a break-even fee. I remember on my first visit asking Caleb why they sold that beer for so cheap. After becoming a regular myself it became obvious to me.

If you somehow found yourself drinking Busch Light, you knew you weren't going to be driving home. Someone would have to take you. In this little town of ours we didn't have 

Uber

. No taxis. No buses. You had to rely on your neighbor. And your neighbor lived miles away from you. But they were more than happy to take you home, and give you a lift back in the morning when you had to go fetch your car.

It's the simple things that make your life. Right now I'm sitting at a cafe enjoying a cigarette somewhere in the 

Zurich

timezone, sipping a single malt scotch and smoking a 

cigarette

. Just one month ago I visited that bar in that small town and things felt different. But everything about the bar was the same. What's changed was myself. Couldn't just enjoy the simple things in life anymore. Not that simple thing at least.

Or maybe I can. I'm enjoying this smoke. This drink. On this summer blossom of an evening. Balmy air. The kind where you don't think twice about nature wrecking you with ice, snow, and darkness. The kind of evenings where you think you can go on forever. Order another drink. Buy one for the broski you just met. You know you'll get drinks bought for you three-fold through the night. That's just how things go.