I had been looking forward to spending some time after work on Saint Paddy’s Day over at the Wonderbar Restaurant on Washington Street in Biddeford. For those of you unfamiliar with it, it is an Irish pub and the owner, Vincent Keely, is an immigrant from Ireland, albeit about 60 years ago. He’s also a friend of mine, a charming and affable gentleman. His son Brian runs the place along with Vince, which of course like just about any small business, means they both work there.

So, I left the office unusually early, about 5:30 and drove over there. I intended to hang out and chat with a few people, some of which I expected to know and some I expected to get to know. I intended to order a classic Irish meal of boiled corned beef, cabbage and carrots. And I intended to have a Guinness which I think is not only an excellent beer but the best Irish beer, at least of those I am familiar with. However, as I drove onto Washington Street and parked the car I realized that there were lots of cars and no parking on the street, that is all the spots were taken. So I did something I have not had to do before and that was I pulled into the municipal parking area, which had very little parking left.

And finally, as I walked into the pub I saw something else new to me, the place was packed like a can of sardines. There was standing room only as far as I could tell in the pub and on the restaurant side it was fully filled as well. I walked over to Brian and Vince, shook their hands and told them I’d be back later to celebrate with them, which I had every intention of doing. I don’t generally care for crowds, particularly after a long day at work. Moreover, it was too loud in there with all the friendly boisterous voices for me to be able to hear a conversation, never mind participate in one. Maybe I’m just getting old.

So I hopped in my car and I drove around … and around … and around. I was over on Adams Street and saw the Mexican restaurant, Los Tapatios, which I had eaten at a few times before and found very good. So I parked, walked in and sat at the bar. There was a couple a few seats down the bar and perpendicular from me. It didn’t take long for the woman to start up a conversation with me. Actually, it was a bit of verbal sparring, which I was fine with and even enjoyed. She was teasing me about the way I was dressed, about looking like an attorney, about reading the paper in a bar instead of socializing and about the pink dress shirt I was wearing.

Yes, I was wearing a pink dress shirt. Although I buy all my casual clothes locally, I usually order my dress clothes online and in this one case a shirt turned out to be more pink than mauve when I received it. And rather than return it, because it really is quite pink and I don’t care for the color, I decided to use the opportunity to further discover my feminine side, as women often call it, to develop into a more well-rounded human being. Okay, I just couldn’t be bothered going through the trouble of returning it. So this woman whose name I discovered was Shirley, continued to break my shoes about the pink shirt and I played along and threw barbs back in the name of good fun while her husband laughed at the whole scene. The three of us talked for hours and got to know one another, became friends and exchanged contact information.

My take away, the lesson I learned, the reminder I got from this evening, was that I need to be open to new experiences. We all make plans to do this or that, but rather than getting upset when they don’t work out ”“ and we know they often won’t work out ”“ embracing the turns in the path of life can sometimes present great opportunities for growth, for knowledge, for friendship and yes even for love.

Thanks for reading, stay informed by reading every day, drive safe, be kind, hug a loved one or friend and have a wicked great week!

Please feel free to comment on my musings with a Letter to the Editor by emailing jtcommunity@journaltribune.com or mail a note to Journal Tribune, Attn: Editor, 457 Alfred Street Biddeford. ME 04005.

— Bruce M. Hardina is the Publisher of the Journal Tribune, a singer song-writer, a philosopher, a student of life and the human experience, a columnist, a loving neighbor, friend, father, son and brother.

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