Writing in Bars

By Katherine Arnup

I write in bars.

Not just any bar will do. Fancy places seem to think my presence will discourage business, as if suddenly an army of students will invade the bar to do their homework. There, waitresses bring my bill too quickly, trying to give me what my father would call “the bum’s rush.” Sleazy bars with lecherous men are equally bad.

Buffalo Charlie’s was my first regular bar in Ottawa. It was conveniently located in the same mall as the grocery store, liq...