Operation Nightwatch Seattle

Sitting in a neighborhood bar is a crazy way to live, especially since all I ever drink there is water. 
 
I wonder how much shorter my life is thanks to second hand smoke.  But I'm hooked.  There aren't that many real places any more, where working class poor and slumming rich and neighbors can mix it up.
 
I totally dig Targy's, 6th and Crawford, buried in a residential neighborhood -- owned by a grumpy Norwegian who looks 20 years older than he really is, thanks to some bad luck in his career of choice -- fisherman.  Most nights he really couldn't be bothered.  Getting up off his stool to get customers beer seems like more trouble that it's worth.  He's positively feeble at 56, and no businessman. 
 
For a few blessed weeks "Homer" was too sick to work, so he hired several attractive females.  Business was booming.  Even having to pay salaries, he was better off.  Homer returns, and the customers leave.  Who wants attitude along with their cheap beer?
 
I like going to Targy's, Homer or no Homer.  I walk in wearing a collar.
 
I'm a minister, full time working with Operation Nightwatch in Seattle.
 
For the past 20 years I've hung out in low dives and neighborhood bars, just making friends.  I don't preach.   I'm just there.  If people want to talk religion with me, fine.  I've settled a few bar bets through the years.  And I've talked baseball.  Sometimes people decide there are better ways to live than sitting there getting drunk every night. 
 
I decided I better start throwing my stories out there while I can.