They made you take your shots in Minnesota, so as far as bars and restaurants, you ended up in a largely mask-less (waste?)land.
For a fickle few days, more like a week, patrons at such venues in the likes of St. Paul and Minneapolis were made to have credible evidence of having been vaccinated, to be served food and drink indoors in this the dead of winter. So western Wisconsin again became a dumping ground for Twin Citians not fully vaccinated, although there was no such requirement for the servers themselves. It became the reverse of what it had been in Hudson, when making a comparison as far as masking, where those who poured drinks and brought food might have tied one on — their face of course — but you knew if they wore a mask to be here and guzzle they were “tourists.” Or patrons who had the right idea when starting off in downtown Hudson on the south end of Second Street at Ziggy’s and then Hop and Barrel as far as bards, then made the historically typical bar trek northward on the east side, not the west side where most of the taverns are.
And with the behavior, some of the slobs remained the same, although in part due to cold not every night was the attendance rager of a year or so ago. Right before and after the temporary metro ban on the non-vaccinated, the day made the difference in crowds.
But then there was that day. Walked in and shook off the cold and innocently took a seat at the bar, when I swear the guy standing at an angle, but off to himself, on a side where I had not gotten, muttered “whatcha lookin’ at.” My eye had only been, briefly even then, on the bartender. Seconds later a bit of a boisterous bud and his buddies walked by to join a trio of women at the bar-rail. One of them kinda squawked at her friend, then turned her body and attention to the veteran bartender for a prolonged set of questions about what was billed on their order and the price(s).
Heading out the door to again go northward, there was a guy on his cell phone trying to explain the intricacies of a seemingly big problem to his girlfriend — at length between her squawking at him. You could tell I coulda made the trek all the way around the block and back to the other end, go passed them again (I don’t know where she was calling from) and they would have gotten no further with a resolution.
Much more peaceable on the next night were a couple all decked out (still) in red in decorated sweaters and posh pants, the only crew shooting darts and talking about their metro place of residence. All down the bar toward the end where people I would have to describe as either townies, or Citians. The only main place where you will find such local folk these days, mostly edging middle age, is in Plaza 94 at Jonesey’s Local (fittingly named) and the adjoining Hudson Bowling Center and its smaller bar area. All this with news a few days later of Illinois being one of the first to back off (no word about Iowa).