We were practically fixtures in the place for three years—long enough to have the jukebox's selection of Motown and Rat Pack classics committed to memory. But it all came to an end two years ago, when it was discovered that my Canadian girlfriend had been living here without a visa, and she was sent back. It was a break-up by deportation. Shortly thereafter, I managed to move to the far west side of town, to a neighborhood I'd be less likely to spot on episodes of Cops. And that was the end of our run at Champagnes.
But suddenly, here we were, once again surrounded by that unforgettable velvet wallpaper with its hypnotic gold pattern. The bar was both familiar and mysterious, and we scanned the room for signs of change. Did that TV screen used to be on the wall? Are those the same Christmas lights hanging over the bar? I recognized the same bartender and wondered if he recognized me. eventually, these curiosities no longer mattered. We slipped back into that same old booth and at once realized how much we'd missed it.
"Hey, what can I get you?" the bartender asked with a smile that hinted at vague recognition. I ordered two drinks, light beers for the calorie-conscious (though I'm faking it) and a dollar's worth of Dean Martin and Marvin Gaye. As we reminisced, we were visited by an assortment of quirky barflies. One woman insisted we spread the word that Al Gore is a hypocrite who owns stock in oil companies.
"Look it up! Look it up!" she hollered. With no reference material readily available, she turned to other bar patrons for confirmation. "Isn't it true? Isn't it true?" We promised we'd investigate further. I used to find interruptions by weird strangers irritating, but now it seemed oddly endearing. I didn't want to leave.
But as the hour grew late, it became time to take Lisa to the airport. I wondered when I'd find my way back here again. This place was so far away now. I could make an effort to stop by as often as possible, but it just wouldn't be the same, would it? The realities of distance were unavoidable, but I was glad to have made it back, to have reminded myself of all the great times we'd had here. The joint certainly does have history to spare. It'll always be our place, and I'll miss it.
Champagnes Café
Where: 3557 S. Maryland Parkway.
Info: 737-1699.
At long last, Matthew Scott Hunter has a valid reason to drink. You can e-mail him at [email protected].