Maybe it was the endless hours of syndicated Cheers reruns I consumed (thanks dad) or my family's transient lifestyle that moved me from state to state before I ever managed to muster up a sense of belonging (shoutout to therapy), but my ideal image of adulthood revolved around being the kind of person who could swing open saloon doors with authority to find a warm hello and a fresh pint. I dreamed of being a regular.
And now, after decades of moving myself around the country, plagued by a subconscious need to repeat the traumas of my youth (again, therapy -- you're the best), I've finally achieved my childhood goal: I've found that one place in the world where everybody knows my name.
So, in an attempt to guide little dreamers like me (i.e., the grown-up versions of weird, lonely kids who idolize a future filled with barstools and buybacks), here's how to become a regular. Follow closely, fellow drinkers, and one day they'll always be glad you came.