I recently read an article by Mark Alan Burger, entitled: The Lost Art of Being a Regular: Why You Should Become a Regular Fixture at Your Local Restaurant or Bar. Though, I’d lived in Phoenix for over 25 years, when I got divorced, my group of friends changed. No longer was I invited to couples’ events, Happy Hours, or weekend parties; I was hesitant to walk into a restaurant and say, “Table for one.”

About thirteen years ago, in the midst of July heat, I couldn’t bear the thought of cooking dinner or driving through a fast food joint for a greasy taco with tainted lettuce. Even though my youngest kid had warned me an eon ago to never go into El Mar, I was hungry, and I did. Not only was it not the biker, dive bar she’d described, but it was filled with folk who looked like me all enjoying a leisurely meal in a comfortable, yet festive atmosphere.

The food was good, the staff was excellent, and they offered Trivia Tuesdays. Within weeks, I became a regular. My neighbor and I formed a trivia team, and we became “fixtures” at El Mar! Just as Burger addresses in his article, there are advantages to being a regular:

1. The owners and the staff not only know my name, but bring my beverage choice to the table before I sit down. We exchange meaningful conversation because we’ve shared our life details, i.e. our dogs, our kids, our vacations, and our occasional dirty jokes!
2. I’ve met so many interesting people who live in my ‘hood that I would have never encountered elsewhere. Among them include: the head of maintenance at the apartment complex on the corner, an attorney at the State Attorney General’s office, two pediatricians, a talented ceramic artist, and numerous owners of diners and other small businesses. I know the lead singer/guitarist in a cool band, the head of supply chain management for a national sportswear company, a retired police officer, a retired Marine, and a veterinarian technician. All of them have enriched my experience, and some of them ended up as characters in my last novel: Justice for Jeremy.
3. As a byproduct of engaging with all of these neighborhood folk, I learn a lot of neighborhood news–some gossip, but some valuable info.
4. El Mar is a place of celebration, too, where we all join in to sing Happy Birthday or Country Roads when the USA soccer team wins.
5. But what I like best about El Mar, its staff, and its customers is their spirit of community and their commitment to giving back–to the neighborhood public schools, to the animal shelters, to the women’s shelters, to the Christmas toy drives, to Veterans’ organizations, and to summer water drives for the unhoused.

As I reflect on my experience, indeed, it took guts to walk into El Mar alone. Yet, I’m so thankful I did. In this disconnect, insular world of texts, polarization over race and/or economic status, and downright abject hate, it is exhilarating for me to walk into an establishment, where everyone greets one another with a smile or a hug. Yes, I’m a “fixture”–something permanently attached to El Mar, and they will have to scrape me off the wall if they decide to: 8677!