Chapter 6Saturday night’s date was something totally different and more bizarre than anything I’d done so far in this crazy dating extravaganza.
We met at Stanley’s Bar and Grill just as a peddle taxi pulled up. The taxi looked like a modified version of a San Francisco cable car. Down the middle was a table, and along the sides were stools facing it. Garbage barrels flanked the ends of the table.
Each bar stool had revolving foot pedals like those found on bicycles. We’d be working our way from bar to bar under our own steam—unless the conductor deemed his passengers too drunk to provide power, in which case he’d crank up the contraption’s motor.
Tonight’s challenge? The Downtown Bar Association’s Treasure Hunt.
My date? A hyper-wired late-twenties or early-thirties perennial super st
