Baby at a bar

Well, I've done it. On Friday evening, I picked Roxanne up from day care and brought her back to Midtown to the Spotted Dog Tavern. It was one of my co-workers birthdays, and two of my co-workers who have been out of town for quite a while were back visiting, so I decided to go. I was a little worried about bringing her in there for several reasons. I did know that it was a non-smoking bar since all Atlanta restaurants and bars are now non-smoking, and since it was only 5:30, I knew there wouldn't be too many obnoxiously drunk people. It's definitely a place where people who work in the Bank of America Tower go after work to have a drink. They also have food, so it's sort of a restaurant, too (can you tell I'm justifying?).

I was worried mostly about noise. It is always really loud in the Spotted Dog, and although they usually play a nice selection of music, they were playing awful stuff like Ace of Base on Friday night. Justin took MARTA up to us from his job, and he agreed that it was a little loud for baby. However, all of my co-workers (who are definitely also friends) were enamored with Roxanne. She got passed around a little bit, and got her picture taken about fifty times (don't we all love camera phones?). I was only a little bit uncomfortable because I worried about what the other patrons were thinking. One man in particular was sitting at a table with some friends and kept turning around on his stool to stare at us. I thought he looked sort of irritated, and it was making me feel guilty. After about half an hour, we decided to leave. I was shocked when the man who had been staring at us tried to get my attention on the way out, and with a big goofy grin asked "how old is the baby?"