Happy hour

Tonight we hit the town for a happy hour menu at one of our downtown spots. It’s similar to the drink menu but rather they have meals for about half the price. Restaurants all over our state do it and it’s rad!

It’s Friday so I was looking forward to Matt getting off at a reasonable hour and hitting the local hipster pub and wood-fire pizzeria with the family. You can get $5 wood-fire pizzas and the kids get free drinks. They even thought of families and have little games that kids can play while they are bored waiting for the food to come. But the wait was too long at the pizzeria so we had to high tale it to the “Irish” pub that serves $2 sliders (please tell me that doesn’t mean what I think it means), fish and chips and everything thing else deep-fried that makes your aorta clog while you sit and listen to Irish drinking songs by Paddy.

So I got my happy hour order of fish and chips and let me put the emphasis on the singular form of the word fish in this instance. I had one piece of fish the size of a free range egg that was huddled next to my overflowing basket of chips. I basically got an order of CHIPS with side order of fish. It was less than delightful to pay what we payed for more fried potatoes than you could shake a leprechaun at but I think we just needed to do that. We’ve not had a family outing in a while.

I can say it was great to be downtown with the family, seeing the trams go by and watching people pass on their way home from work. When I left Tacoma, over a decade ago, there was NOTHING downtown to do in the evening. Everything shut down at 5pm. It’s developed massively since I left and it actually feels like a city.

We ate our overpriced, happy hour meal (more like a happy meal, minus the cool toy and fun box to draw on), wiped our mouths clean of the grease and headed home. All the while I kept thinking what life would have been like at The Hub where a wood fire pizza would have brought joy to one and all. I complained only 3/4 way to our parked van, all while Matt graciously grinned and listened to my rant about fine dining. I obviously don’t transition well. I had my heart set on the Hub but our plans were foiled by long lines at the hipster hotspot. It’s not only my nearly seven-year old son who gets an idea in his head and can’t let go if he doesn’t get what he wants.

I enjoyed our family date night, even if my heart bellyache about sliders that are working their way through my kids as I write this; even if I feel myself developing food born ailments due to the lack of any sort of nutritional value that may or may not have been consumed tonight. It was yet a grand night out on the town. I’m stoked that we live in Tacoma. FYI, avoid the happy hour at the Irish pub downtown. Head to the Hub if you can!


2 thoughts on “Happy hour

  1. I loved the happy hour idea when I visited Washington. I wish they would do that here in Madison. I would definitely go out a lot more.

    I laughed when I read, “I obviously don’t transition well.” Sooo funny! I am the same way. We are so similar in some ways.

    • I know. Can you imagine how much restaurants would make if they did happy hour food? They’d make hundreds!!! Next time you come here, or when you move here with Luke, we’ll go out tons for happy hour meals.

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