Me and the Owl Tree

I was stuck in ridiculous holiday traffic yesterday afternoon on my way to the video game convention (more on that later), and I had ample time to stare out my car window at my surroundings. Near Union Square, I passed a sign that was so cute, I wanted to turn around and look at it again. "Owl Tree," it said, and had a picture of, well, an owl in a tree. I came home and looked it up on the interweb. Guess what? 1. It's a bar. 2. There are thousands of fake owls inside! 3. I must make it my new haunt immediately.

This discovery is quite timely considering that we wandered the streets of San Francisco for hours on Saturday night, searching for the right bar to have cozy times in, but nothing seemed quite right. Is it possible that this problem was solved by a shared can of Budweiser in a brown bag, consumed on the very streets we traversed? Yes. But I won't have to drink on the street anymore, because I have a feeling that the Owl Tree will be a long term solution.

Some times I miss the good old days, when I filled my apron pockets with Fuzzy Town stuffed owls (pictured above), arranged them in their little fuzzy tree stumps and hollow plush acorns, held them tenderly in my little hand, and got paid for it.