After I dropped off Mrs. B, I. and I picked up Alice at Cal. We came home, dropped our school bags, and poured ourselves glasses of Txakoli, the most amazing Spanish white wine from the coastal Basque country. After some conversation and fried chicken from Betty’s, we decided to do something almost unheard of in A Rockridge Life: go to a bar.
I knew just where I wanted to go: The Conga Lounge above Pizza Rustica on College Avenue.
This place effing soothes me. It’s super random, but not Oaklandish at all. Alice and I sat at the bar and drank Pina Coladas and the similar, but not blended, Obama-mama. It was amazing. They had Ghostbusters playing on the TV, sweet bartender, and a mixed, kind of international crowd. OK there were a few Aussies, but still, pretty good for Rockridge. In short, with the help of the kind faced bartender, we both got a little over-served. We talked about everything and nothing. It was a fabulous evening.
Here’s a pic I took from the bar…there was something wrong with my iPhone, but you can make out the sign for another timely drink, the “Barack Attack.”