A well dressed man in his 60’s sat at the bar nursing a smokey glass of tequila. To his right a woman sat quietly, not moving, staring at her drink. In front of her was a Moleskine notebook lined up perfectly with the edge of the bar. Beside it was a black ink pen, placed perfectly in alignment with the edge of the notebook. The pen was the kind writers and artists use to sketch out ideas. Above the notebook, and placed precisely even with its top edge was a white business card. To the right was the margarita she was looking at intently.
The items placed in front of her looked like a photo shoot for a minimalist desk top. She must be a designer or artist, he thought to himself. That she had placed items on the bar in front of her made her seem wildly out of place. The fact that they were aligned with each other with precision was even more curious. But her slumped over vacant stare spoke of the probability that she needed to be sitting at a bar.
He asked her about the business card. “Meet a hot guy?” he asked her, hoping to break the ice.
“I got this card yesterday,” she replied, not looking up, and picking it up to hold it gently in her hand. She set it down again carefully, exactly lined up again with the notebook. “It’s from a police officer,” she said, and took a measured sip of her drink.
“Are you going to go out on a date?” he asked, hoping she would say no.
“He came to my house.” She took another sip and paused for a moment. He waited.
“I almost lost my daughter last night, and he was the first to arrive when I called for help. He gave me his card so that I could call him and find out where they took her. She is in the hospital.”
The well dressed man suddenly realized how idiotic he must have seemed trying to hit on her in this moment of what was clearly shock. “I am sorry,” he said, half for what she is going through, and half for being an idiot.
She continued to sit quietly, letting the loud festive music drown out her thoughts. She memorized the way the business card looked against the worn wooden bar. The coolness of the drink in her hand was soothing. The lively environment around her kept her not so visible, yet not alone. She had picked this spot to comfort her broken mother’s heart. Giant plates of food swirled above her head. She felt safe. Warm. There was the sound of happy voices rising and falling. The world would disappear as long as she sat in that one place. A place where you go to be welcomed, to see friends, to feel part of a warm, happy family. A place to go if you feel alone.
Saylor’s is located at an intersection that leads down to many of Sausalito’s marinas. For that reason it is a destination for boating people, and a wide range of locals and others who come to Sausalito specifically to meet there. You never know who you will meet when sitting at the bar.
The food is delicious, the staff friendly, and the drinks do their job.