On a recent Friday evening, a friend asked if I wanted to attend happy hour at a nearby establishment. Since I’m not usually into the bar scene (been there, done that), I was pretty ambivalent about going to another gathering of strangers to make superficial small talk at the end of a long and tiring work week.
The term “happy hour” always seem weirdly strange to me. Are the people who attend really “happy” or is this type of gathering ever limited to an hour?
From what I’ve read, it seems that the idea of holding “happy hours” is an attempt by restaurant owners to attract customers to frequent their establishments during the slower times of the day between the lunch crowd and the evening dinner crowd. Therefore, during the 4 pm to 8 pm time slot, owners would entice customers with reduced drink and appetizer prices.
According to Acton, Adams and Packer (2006), in their book, Origin of Everyday Things, the term “happy hour” originated with the United States Navy in the 1920s, when boxing and wrestling matches were scheduled on-board ships to entertain sailors on long voyages.
During the Prohibition years (1920 – 1933), the manufacture, sale, transportation, importation, and exportation of intoxicating liquors within the United States were prohibited. As a result, citizens began operating illegal drinking establishments to produce, distribute, and consume illegal alcoholic beverages. Therefore, people could still enjoy a few cocktails before going to dinner at a restaurant where alcohol could not be served. These illegal drinking establishments held “Happy Hours” for citizens who were daring enough to break the law.
After some mental deliberations, I decided to attend this particular “happy hour”, in part, because I wanted to try out a new lens. The lens is the Sony DT 35mm F1.8 for APS-C sensors, providing the full frame equivalent of 53mm. As a DT lens and a member of the Sony “easy choice” lens range, it is very affordable, turning in a stellar performance. Check out the excellent review here.
This particular happy hour was held atJackson’s, in Reston, VA. As I approached the place, I sensed the cool and dry evening, with the sun beginning its journey below the horizon. As I train my eyes on the establishment, the mob of bodies was clearly visible a block away, like a gathering of assorted animals at a water hole in the arid Serengeti Dessert; there were big ones and small one, short one and tall ones. Some were colorful, while others were quite drab. The odor of pheromones was not too noticeable, though certain peer-to-peer stereotypical behaviors were easily observed.
Walking through the front door, I had an uneasy feeling in my gut, scanning the scene for the leader of our pack. After a few minutes of wandering around, I settled among a group of familiar people.
The evening turned out better than I had anticipated. Although the liquid refreshments never wavered from the usual, the local food in this section of the Serengeti was quite satisfying. I met a number of interesting denizens, providing me the opportunity to test my lens. A couple of us broke away from the masses to sample the local flora and fauna.