At a few ticks past 11 p.m., Sue was Times-Square-in-Vanilla Sky empty, save for McCarron and a guy named Calvin. The bartender told me that earlier in the evening, some psycho drove all the Sue customers away by ranting about how Christ was gay. Since we were basically the only people there, the ultra-friendly McCarron was quick on the convo uptake. Our chat topics ranged from The Da Vinci Code to the Ronald McDonald Foundation to whether or not AI was going to leave the Sixers.

While the joint's moniker suggests that it's rockabilly to the core, the only Cash flow I ingested came in the form of the Man in Black lithographs hanging on the back wall.

I also couldn't help but notice Sue's dedication to safety: Aside from the recently nixed wrasslin' device, the bar's corners are rounded to discourage serious slip-'n'-fall head trauma. Confident that our visit would be devoid of health hazards, we ordered a few super-cheap beers and stared at the flat screen.

I was pleased as Pabst when I realized that McCarron and I practice the same television policy—no matter what you're watching, a commercial break means you change the channel. While we missed some of the Suns-Lakers playoff, I developed a sincere appreciation for trick pool shot competitions, and, to a lesser extent, the Weather Channel.