The atmosphere was a bit unusual. It had some kind of sideshow feel to it, like in a horror movie or TV show when some person is lured to some strange location to watch a performance, only to discover that THEY are the main attraction, and it results in a life or death struggle. I didn’t quite feel that much danger, but there was definitely some underlying presence here. At least it wasn’t as bad as being around the Concord House near Sullivan. I’ve never felt anything quite like that place before

We explained the reason why we came, which was to have a shot of Malort. The bartender asked Patti if she wanted one and she quickly refused.

“Oh. You gotta drink this with someone else. If you won’t have a shot, I’ll take one with him,” the bartender said.

He poured both of us a shot of malort.

“You sure you don’t want one?” I asked Patti as I lifted the shot off the countertop and held it closer to her.

She sniffed the shot and started gagging; no pretending at all.

This was encouraging. Not only did I have all the stories that she and Tom were sharing at the other bar, but I got physical confirmation about how bad it was.

“At least when I throw up, there won’t be anyone else around,” I thought to myself as I scanned the empty room.

The bartender and I both slammed our shots at the same time. Patti was looking at me with anticipation for my reaction. After swallowing the liquid, I tasted what remained on my palette to get a clear sense of what I was dealing with. When I figured it out, my face began to pucker up.

“That was it?” I asked.

My face didn’t pucker up out of disgust. It was more like perplexity.

“What??? That’s your reaction??” Patti asked.

“After the way you guys were hyping this up, I thought it was going to put me in the hospital, or something. ‘Most disgusting shot ever.’”

It didn’t taste great, but it certainly wasn’t as bad as I prepared myself for. It was kind of a disappointment.

We continued on with regular conversation, sometimes involving the bartender and the waitress as that strange feeling began to decline, maybe from achieving a comfort level that may or may not have been influenced by alcohol, but most likely it was.

“I don’t understand. That bartender Annie told me you never ask anyone for their phone number and you were very brave talking to my cousin and me at the other bar and also coming here with me. Why would you do that?” I asked.

“I like your energy,” Patti stated simply.

I wasn’t used to people being so friendly with me like this. Patti was acting like she had known me for at least a couple of years even though this was only our first meeting. She would do things like occasionally bop me on the head and call me a brat. It did have kind of an old high school classmate feeling of familiarity to it.

As it got later, Patti called an Uber to give us both rides. She let me drive her car over here to this bar, which was another very bold move, so my car was still at the other bar.

When we stepped out of the bar, suddenly all my senses came alive. It was like I could feel everything that was around me, even though it seems like the alcohol would’ve suppressed such awareness. I could feel the cold December air, I felt the incline we were on in the parking lot going from the bar up to the street, and I also felt how vulnerable Patti was at this moment. She was still wearing her magenta server outfit with no jacket and was walking around clumsily across and up and down the incline. I grabbed onto her quickly.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself!” I said to her as I helped her walk up the incline.

Then I realized it was probably a good idea to offer her my Amazon jacket. It wasn’t very thick, but it was better than nothing.

“You’re gonna freeze out here,” I told her as I helped her put it on.

I had on a t-shirt and a flannel underneath. It was really cold, but at least I wouldn’t feel guilty about letting her freeze.

After about ten minutes, the Uber driver came and gave us both a lift. We both made it home safely.

This wasn’t the first time I had my senses wake up suddenly like that. Another time, about 10 months earlier, I went to my second cousin’s funeral near Brookfield. Afterwards, a small group of us went to Milwaukee to a bar called Vintage, and then the bowling alley in The Landmark a block away or so.

My second cousin who passed had two sisters named Jen and Julie who were treating everyone as is kind of our custom. Jen and Julie were always like big sisters to me. One was kind of quiet and passive, while the other one was loud and bold. Somehow they complimented each other well.

There was a young man with us named Jake who was a friend of the family who I had met a few months earlier at a work Christmas party when we went to his bar, The Saloon on Calhoun.

We only bowled one game. In the middle of the game, Jake was on deck to bowl and was talking to a couple others who were in our group. Suddenly, that same sense awakened within me. I jumped up out of my seat.

“You’re gonna get a strike this time!” I said to Jake enthusiastically.

Jake didn’t quite know what I was talking about, but he went on to bowl. I could feel every action he was performing as he went on to bowl. What I could see would be a lot harder to explain.

“Yep. You’re gonna get a strike,” I said again, like it was already done.

Jake bowled and got a strike — his one and only the whole game. He was blown away and called me a genius. I simply just felt something and reported on it. The only remaining question is if he would’ve gotten the strike if I had said nothing.

Even that was not the first time I had felt that before. Years ago when I would spar in martial arts, for an instant, I would feel something and then my body would almost move on its own based on what I felt, if I let it. There were times I ducked my sparring partner’s combo, probably a split second before he even thought about throwing it, or threw a strikingly accurate combo of my own without even trying. In Chinese traditional martial arts, there is a higher state associated with martial arts training. It’s called “Empty Mind.” It’s the stuff of legends. It’s basically fighting without fighting. Bruce Lee, in his famous movie “Enter the Dragon” makes reference to it.

“When the opponent expands, I contract. When he contracts, I expand. And when there is an opportunity, I do not hit. It hits all by itself.”

It might also be what is known as “The Final Level” in the movie “The Last Dragon.” No one living has ever claimed to be a master of this technique. In my personal life, it seems to have a life of its own, coming and going as it likes for only a brief instant, but I was beginning to understand it had much more than just martial applications.

Patti and I kept in touch. Ironically, I found out she used to work with Jake at The Saloon on Calhoun, which linked both of the aforementioned experiences together. It seemed like some kind of interconnected and interwoven story was unfolding, and I was just one of the actors in it.