Hot. Humid. August. Brooklyn. Last summer after I decided to not show up to a waitress job, I wandered towards an unfamiliar corner bar instead. It was one of the hottest days and I just wanted a cold drink. The chalkboard read "Sangria". That made me go in. I sat on an old wood stool at the bar and was greeted by a weathered pirate that twisted his Jack Sparrow mustache as he spoke with one eye peeking out from his brim. Instead of getting the sangria, he made me his signature drink… it had jalapenos in it. My heart grew. Its the kind of place where you can be left alone if you wanted. Its a place for misfits. I had found my favorite bar in Brooklyn. After a few moments of enjoying my delicious drink, pride, and silence, a girl walked in and sat next to me. She ordered a Chimay. I looked up at the beer then I took a good look at her. I knew that she would become my first Brooklyn friend.
