I didn't watch the Comey hearings at a bar. In fact, I ddn't watch the Comey hearings, period.

Here's why:

I actually had work to do. Because it was, you know, a weekday.

And so did (as far as I could figure out looking out the window sitting at my desk all day grinding out two deadline stories would have resulted in Death by Editor Strangling had I hopped off for to get inebriated while the sun was high) the guys hauling the trash, the lady delivering the mail, the UPS man, the hedge-trimmers across the street, and the Merry Maids headed toward a cleaning job. Oh, and also my husband.

Thursday and all.

People talk about how America is "coming apart": dividing us into two "classes that are different in kind from anything we have ever known," as a blurb for Charles Murray's book by that title puts it.

And here are the two classes of Americans that existed yesterday: the people with the kind of jobs that allowed them to show off their ultimate coolness by knocking off and plunking their heinies onto a tavern stool at 9:30 in the morning  and gluing their eyes to the screen. And the people with the kind of jobs that they actually had to show up for.

Here's the New York Times story: "Must-See TV: Free Drinks and Canceled Meetings for Comey's Testimony" :

The schedule has been cleared and the popcorn readied at Evergreen Partners, a strategic communications firm in central New Jersey, where the rule for employees on Thursday morning is simple: No client talk while James B. Comey is speaking.

“We canceled meetings when we saw what time it was on,” said the firm’s president, Karen J. Kessler, who is planning a cheese-and-crackers spread by her office’s 60-inch screen. “It’s must-see TV.”

How can I get a gig at Evergreen Partners? Believe me, I can cancel meetings with the best of them!

Here's more:

“They really should declare a national holiday,” said Sally Quinn, the journalist and the doyenne of Washington’s social circuit, “since no work is going to get done.”

Enterprising establishments have been quick to capitalize on the Super Bowl-like atmosphere. At Union Pub in Washington, a sports bar steps from the Hart Senate Office Building, bartenders plan to dole out a free round of Budweisers or bourbon shots every time Mr. Trump blasts out a tweet….

“I wouldn’t be surprised if people took half-days or take the day off,” Ms. Saunders said. “If I had a normal job, I don’t know what I’d be doing.”

"Normal job." That sums it up, doesn't it?

And it seems that all across America the kind of people who could take "half-days or take the day off" were cramming themselves into dram-shops to down cutsie-sounding "Russian-theme" drinks or maybe just spiked covfefe–while the deplorables who couldn't were shuffling off to their soul-less worksites.

The only comfort for the hapless Work-a-Joes: Trump didn't tweet, Comey didn't deliver blood, and those hipsters who wore out their rears on the barstools didn't seem to be saying "Cheers" much.