Day 5

The pride and joy of the BBSR, the Passin' Wind, turns out to be little more than a glorified hole in the wall with TV, foosball, a dartboard and a Buddha which looks like it has seen better days. Its one saving grace was that (last night anyway), they were offering free Foster's from a crate that was apparently donated to them/stolen/washed up ashore. Aside from us American/international riffraff, there were three British guys in their 30s playing neverending games of euchre on the bartop. I suppose they've been lacking a 4th for a while, because it wasn't long after they saw me eyeing the cards that one of them asked if I "play Spades, wee man." I confessed that I did, and they told me that they would cut me in. The euchre went on a bit too long, though, and I decided that I was tired and left. It seems that there were inquiries later on in the night as to whether I'm "good with cards" and a "gambling man": do I give off some Vegas vibe or something because of my long bridge-playing history?