Skylark in Park Slope, Brooklyn.
Last night I found myself sitting at the bar at Skylark, drinking a beer and reading 1Q84 by Haruki Murakami. Something I should be doing a lot more. The bar was empty except for the owner and her friends and a couple sitting at a table near the door. The speakers were playing some upbeaty music but definitely fine for reading my digital book at the corner of the bar.
I had a dream. I had a dream that one day I'll open a bar, a quiet bar where people can have normal conversations (or even read) without having to yell.