This is Pat. Pat’s from Canada. But on this night, he’s in New York City. Proletariat Bar, to be exact—a tiny watering hole with great beer in the East Village. The width of this place is not much more than your outstretched arms.
Pat likes coffee and he loves dogs. I know these things because Pat, like so many others, is a friend of mine from the beer internet. It's the first time we've met IRL, but we chat about the interests we share, just like old friends—which breweries he’s visited since his arrival, which coffee shops are on his list, and whether he’s seen any photogenic dogs. After all, this stuff is how we ended up here on a rainy Manhattan evening.
I imagine I’ll see Pat again. At the very least, I’ll see pictures of dogs in his Instagram Stories. There will be an image of a cortado that I double-tap, mentally filing away the name of a coffee shop I hope to visit one day. I bet encounters like these will continue to happen in tiny bars on rainy nights, too. And that makes me happy.
