Manuel’s, George’s, and Debra’s, Atlanta, Georgia   4 comments

Manuel's Tavern Atlanta

At the end of the trip to Chattanooga and Dunlap to visit Jackie’s family, we spent the final day of our vacation in my hometown.  One stop was at an old favourite bar, Manuel’s Tavern at North and Highland.

Manuel's Tavern Atlanta Manuel

Manuel Maloof was a fantastic character in Atlanta life and politics.  A lifelong and fervent Democrat when Democrats actually stood for something (and that something was YOU…and a little bit of graft, of course), he was always associated with liberalism but might more accurately be described as a radical for his social policies whilst promoting DeKalb County business and growth fervently.

Manuel's Tavern Atlanta bar

I spent much of my youth watching baseball behind a beer or two at the bar, here.  The poor service persists and the dust on the boar and the line of displayed bottles hasn’t been disturbed since a half-hearted effort at cleaning the place that me and the other Checker Cab Co drivers mocked backed in the late 80’s.  It’s good to be home.

Manuel's Tavern Atlanta boar

The day we returned to England, we dropped the rental car and caught a ride with old friend Debra to George’s Bar at Virginia and Highland.  When I bitch about British hamburgers lacking taste it is a sandwich from George’s I am unfairly comparing them to.  In fact, I’ll put a George’s burger up against any in the world.  Mine had blue cheese and bacon and was orgasmic.  The place has been there my entire life (barely) and has never disappointed.

Georges Burger

We stayed at Debra‘s the night before, a stone’s throw from my youthful home and just across Piedmont Park from Jackie’s and my first apartment together.  We all met at the Mellow Mushroom where each of us was working at the first store (Spring Street and 14th, Jackie), the second (Pharr Road, me), and the fourth store (LaVista Road at Druid Hills, Debra).  Debra’s then girlfriend was managing store #3 at Little Five Points, and we all did time at the Excelsior Mill where Red Bud Distribution, the parent company, pretended to be a professional operation.  These pizza shops/bars have since appeared as franchises all over the South, but when we were there they were just havens for stoners and some of the best pie you could ever hope to find (whereas now you find hipsters and craft beers, but the pizza is still good).

Georges Bar Atlanta

And, Deb’s still a big ol’ stoner (which is nice).  While we snarfed down a bunch of Thai food between hits off a pipe, she spent roughly four hours assembling a Shepherd’s Pie (something that might take a less altered or more focused individual 30-40 minutes including baking the thing).  It looked great, though, and if I hadn’t been absolutely stuffed I would have given it a try.

Debra's Shepherd's Pie

The apartment is her sister’s place. An artist, it is hard to decide how much of the display is Debra’s or Diane’s but the entire house is full of this stuff.  Like a much happier version of Dismaland, there’s too much to take in all at once.

Debra's living room wall

The skeletal remains around the place and worked into some dioramas were, in some cases, familiar.  I didn’t find the snake skull associated with our good-luck door decoration nor the cormorant skull I sent Debra from Holland a  few years ago, but I am certain they are still (as is the beaver skull I harvested on one of our ill-advised and terrifyingly dangerous canoe trips through flood zones in the 1990’s — it is in my office stored with mass spectrometry instrument demo parts).

beaver skull

Here we were, on our way to the airport home:

2015-09-29 on Debra's porch

And, here’s me and Debra in 1986 on one of my first ventures out after a devastating motorcycle accident (while tripping my ass off…kind of put an edge on the broken clavicle and ribs and the protruding bone fragments through what used to be my shirt).  Tall beers in sight, here, and a joint and a bottle of Percodan hidden from view…ah, youth:

me and Deb 1986 post-hospital in Piedmont Park

 

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Posted October 1, 2015 by Drunken Bunny in Beer, Booze, Pubs, sport, Tourism

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