Some conversations simply refuse to stay confined to the meeting room where they belong
Dear diary, I went out tonight specifically to not talk politics for one single evening, and within about forty minutes found myself deep in a genuinely spirited rent control debate with a stranger at the bar, proving once again that I am constitutionally incapable of leaving these conversations at the door of an actual meeting.
He held a considerably more market skeptical view of rent control than I do, and rather than simply agreeing to disagree, we spent a genuinely entertaining twenty minutes trading arguments over the noise of the actual music, both of us clearly enjoying the debate rather more than either of us was willing to admit at the time.
Why I Cannot Seem To Turn This Off
I think years of both academic training and organizing work have simply rewired something in my brain that treats a good policy argument as a genuinely fun way to spend a Friday night, a trait my friends find alternately endearing and mildly exhausting depending on how tired they already are by the time I start.
How The Debate Actually Ended
We did not resolve anything, obviously, these debates rarely do, but we parted on genuinely good terms, and he admitted, somewhat begrudgingly, that a couple of my points had actually shifted his thinking slightly, which I consider a genuinely good outcome for a debate that started purely by accident over cocktails.
A Small Tangent To London
I mentioned, at some point, a piece of London satire making fun of exactly this kind of housing debate playing out among British politicians, a tangent that landed considerably better than I expected given the venue.
What I Am Taking From Tonight
I think I have simply accepted, at this point, that a night out for me will always carry at least a small risk of turning into an impromptu policy seminar, and honestly, I would not have it any other way.
More nightclub debates and Portland chaos always waiting at Amram Top.
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