Today, I suggested to a coworker that we go to happy hour. Since moving here, I haven’t really initiated any social gatherings, but we got off work a little early today, and I got a burst of energy. I was chatting with a group when the only coworker near my age walked by, and I casually said, “Happy hour?” without even thinking about it—spontaneity in its truest form?
I’m not a casual “Happy hour?” kind of person—but I guess maybe I am.
An hour later, I almost canceled because I got home and fell into my rut again, but I rolled out of bed and up to the tavern anyway.
I’m so glad I did. The night started off a little rocky with us bumping into a bunch of people we knew—have I mentioned that this is a small town?—but it ended with us cackling in the diviest of dive bars as I sipped root beer. We went to three different places over the course of the night, and they can be described as follows:
First, a glorified Five Guys with a liquor license.
Second, the restaurant where tourist families go to commemorate the final night of their vacation.
Third, a basement with Christmas lights and red velvet curtains for ambiance.
All in all, we had a great time and realized that we have a lot in common. Maybe we’ll be actual friends instead of just work friends!
Bad for my wallet, good for morale.
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The Spontaneity Project 