By Caron Schwartz
This time last month COVID-19 was (choose your favorite):
- A hoax
- A reason to relearn how to wash your hands
- Only dangerous for the elderly
- We’re all gonna die, so let’s party like it’s 1999
Life was the “old normal,” so it was still acceptable to hang out in public places as long as you limited bodily contact to elbow bumps. One thirsty afternoon I headed for the Dog Bar in St. Pete’s Grand Central District. Officially, I’m a cat person. But I love dogs. I love dogs the way I love children. Other people’s dogs and other people’s children. I enjoy time spent with them and am happy to give them back.
Sitting by my lonesome in a bar is not my ideal situation. It’s usually too dark to read and too loud to eavesdrop. As a “woman of a certain age,” I’m pretty much invisible, so even lame pickup lines are few and far between.
But enjoying a cold one at the Dog Bar is different. You’re at a dog park with your beverage of choice (31 beers on tap and another 50 or so in cans, along with nitro cold-brew coffee and every cocktail known to mankind) while dogs of every description demonstrate how much fun it is to be a dog. Some jump in your lap to say hello, others greet you with a smile as they race each other to the bone-shaped pool. You can’t help but smile back.
When the bars open again be sure to Sit. Stay. Drink.
at the Dog Bar | 2300 Central Ave, St. Petersburg | dogbarstpete.com