{"id":3259,"date":"2017-10-07T09:15:18","date_gmt":"2017-10-07T16:15:18","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/?p=3259"},"modified":"2017-10-07T09:15:18","modified_gmt":"2017-10-07T16:15:18","slug":"oregon-tavern-age-calling-dr-bombay","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/meditations\/oregon-tavern-age-calling-dr-bombay\/","title":{"rendered":"Oregon Tavern Age: Calling Dr. Bombay"},"content":{"rendered":"

Two black dogs pulled an old man in a wheel chair towing a cart. They were mushing him south down a sidewalk, parallel to Highway 101.<\/p>\n

I watched this from across the road. A few seconds later, the dogs did a u-turn, crossed the highway, and approached the Sea Star Lounge in Gold Beach. The man reined in the team, said something I didn’t catch, and they all came to a halt in front of the lounge.<\/p>\n

The man, clearly Oregon Tavern Age, with long gray hair, detached the cart, hitched the dogs to a utility pole and watered them. While they drank, he took out a vaping device and vaped. A whiff of cannabis drifted my way.<\/p>\n

The dogs flopped down on the sidewalk and instantly fell asleep. The man wheeled himself up to the door and maneuvered himself inside. I followed. I had to. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.<\/p>\n

There was a strong urge to address him, get his story. I suppressed it. I wanted to see this unfold without a nosy writer’s intervention. In OTA country, sheer observation instead of journalism often produces a better story.<\/p>\n

He rolled to the bar and angled between a couple of vacant stools. The female bartender asked what he wanted. I didn’t sense he was a regular. He hesitated briefly, then ordered a Bombay Sapphire gin and tonic. After glancing up at the television over the bar, he added, \u201cCalling Dr. Bombay!\u201d<\/p>\n

Dr. Bombay! I couldn’t believe he referenced Dr. Bombay from the Bewitched<\/i> sitcom, which was currently playing on the television, thankfully without sound. Apparently, Samantha had just wiggled her nose and Dr. Bombay magically appeared, holding a martini and riding crop.<\/p>\n

I never liked the show all that much in reruns as a kid, but I did like Elizabeth Montgomery’s nose wiggle. Pert is the adjective. Pert. Pert. Pert. I saw a nose wiggle like that once and it haunts me still.<\/p>\n

The man put in an order for three hamburgers. One for him. Two for the dogs. He sipped his drink and watched the show.<\/p>\n

I ordered an ale and sat at the bar. A few seconds later, a large androgynous-looking man sat down next to me. He ordered a lager and kamikaze. His phone rang and began talking to someone that I quickly deduced was his wife. He told her he was having lunch, all perfectly true. Then he launched into a tirade about his dead beat brother who wasn’t helping out their ailing father.<\/p>\n

His drink order arrived. He pounded the kamikaze and the beer. He dropped the phone, picked it up and kept talking.<\/p>\n

He ordered another round with a few nods. He was still talking on the phone as he nodded, but now his conversation involved his two tours in Iraq and being blasted against a wall by an IED.<\/p>\n

The drinks arrived. He slammed the kamikaze and sipped the beer. He turned his mouth away from the phone and ordered a shot of Rumple Minze. I winced. If you don’t know what it is, you’re better off.<\/p>\n

On television, Darin was fixing Dr. Bombay a colossal martini.<\/p>\n

The bartender brought over the shot. The vet shot it and kept talking, now something about a busted transmission.<\/p>\n

The OTA man’s food order appeared in a white paper sack. He thanked the bartender, drank the last of his gin and tonic, placed the glass on a stool, and wheeled himself out. He never paid.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>The vet ordered another Rumple Minze. I was almost surprised the bartender served him. Almost.<\/p>\n

It was 11:45 in the morning. I looked out the window and saw the dogs devouring the burgers. The man was eating his, too, chasing it with a vape. Three minutes later, the dogs began easing the man off the sidewalk and into the highway. I walked outside to see them off. They disappeared from sight and I went back inside to finish my beer and hope to see Samantha wiggle her nose.<\/p>\n

(If you found this post enjoyable, thought provoking or enlightening, please consider supporting a writer at work by making a financial contribution to this blog or by purchasing an NSP book.) <\/i><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Two black dogs pulled an old man in a wheel chair towing a cart. They were mushing him south down a sidewalk, parallel to Highway 101. I watched this from across the road. A few seconds later, the dogs did a u-turn, crossed the highway, and approached the Sea Star Lounge in Gold Beach. The […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":3260,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[5,15],"tags":[24,382,40,26,71,13,21,27,297,100,23],"class_list":["post-3259","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-meditations","category-oregon-tavern-age","tag-bars","tag-bombay-gin","tag-dogs","tag-drinking","tag-gold-beach","tag-oregon-coast","tag-oregon-tavern-age","tag-ota","tag-sea-star","tag-secret-oregon-coast","tag-taverns","has-post-title","has-post-date","has-post-category","has-post-tag","has-post-comment","has-post-author",""],"builder_content":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3259","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3259"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3259\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3262,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3259\/revisions\/3262"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/3260"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3259"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3259"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3259"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}