Wishing for a Shot of Jameson's

I went to the Pick Me Up Cafe after purchasing my comic books tonight. I had been wondering if I should bother. The service seems to get more indifferent every time I go. Maybe they've realized I'm over 30. Maybe they know I can afford more than I order. Maybe the boss has been less involved recently, but there's a Starbucks down the street and comparably priced eateries all over the neighborhood. Who am I kidding? I'm a sucker for their cheese fries, if not their surly staff. So after making my usual order, I noticed a familiar tune weaving its way past my earphones. The Pogues. Yes, someone had decied to make it (primarily) Shane-McGowan-and-his-musical-buddies night at the Cranky Cup. I took off my earphones and proceded to bask in the energetic stylings of the never-boring band. It was like eating at home, except I didn't have to cook, and I did have to pay. However, it eventually ended up reminding me that Pasarro was supposed to call me this week and didn't. It's a good thing I didn't drink (pretty much all they serve is beer), or I might have gotten downright maudlin about any number of things (did I mention they seem to have emptied the prisons and asylums into downtown Chicago for the new year?) by the time they played "Thousands Are Sailing." I left before the first chorus, but still. I wonder if the Pogues are still touring this year. It seems like forever since I saw them last February. Now I'm getting maudlin, and I still haven't had anything to drink. Or maybe it's nostalgia, which I hate even more. Ah, well. It looks like Obama has a shot at the White House, so that's something to be positively cheerful about.