Well, it turns out that there is a reason that I don’t like working happy hour shifts, people are dipshits. Now, I’m not saying all people are like that, definitely not. But the chosen few, the dipshitterati if you will, of the drinking world are on grand display during the golden hour and it can be annoyingly spectacular. Take for example the two fine specimens yesterday. One, a fine young mulletted curly headed fuck that puked in the urinal and his silver haired stumbling, slurring side kick. I believe the time was approximately 4:00pm when they were refused service, after having put up with their poor behavior for forty-five minutes. After having to tell old marble mouth that I could not serve him anything more today in a very polite way, he just looked at the bar in a confused fashion as I walked away. The younger of the two looks at him and just says “Fuck that guy!” Now, I would usually get my hackles up at this point and go tell the guy to drag his drunk puking ass out of the bar, get overly worked up and need around an hour to decompress, probably taking out my frustrations on the glassware. Fortunately, a customer that was sitting close by looked at the kid and said calmly “He’s actually a good bartender and maybe you’ve had enough and should just leave.” And they did! It was actually a nice segue into a fairly uneventful rest of the evening with some fun and entertaining guests, which I was very grateful for. Thanks to all the sane reasonable people out there that have my back.
So, this girl walks up to me last night in the middle of a punk show and says “Do you have a towel? There’s a spill over there!” So I toss her a towel and she looks at me like I’m an idiot and says “Someone dropped a beer on the floor! That’s not going to help!” So I looked at her and say “If you think anything short of stopping the band, mopping the floor, cleaning everyone’s shoes and waiting for everything to dry will work on cleaning this mess, by all means, have at it!” This is also the same person that came up to me later and said “Are you aware that there is a bloody t-shirt in the women’s bathroom?” To which I stated “Since I don’t go into the women’s bathroom, no I don’t, but thanks for letting me know though. We’ll get it taken care of.” Just a little advice for this young lady and others out there, it’s not that I don’t appreciate the help, but you are at a punk show, have fun, that’s what punk shows are for. Thanks for a good time guys!
Sometimes while bartending I hear snippets of a conversation that inspires me to chime in, usually in a smart-ass fashion, especially if I know the people. Last night I overheard a young man say “Just tell me what you want.” So of course I had to finish the chorus of the Spice Girl’s song and said “Yeah, tell me what you want, what you really really want!” Well, that’s when things got funny. She looks at me and says “I don’t think that would be very appropriate.” Then, her face turned red. Yes, she was blushing, and all her friends noticed and started giving her crap about it. It’s funny how saying something so stupid and trivial can create an uncomfortable moment, but hey, it would be even stranger if I didn’t create awkward moments with my quirky sense of humor. What can I say, my mouth reacts to situations before my brain can say “Well, that may not be the best thing to do Mouth, let’s think this over and devise a less odd way of approaching this particular subject….” Yeah, that’s when the Mouth says “Fuck you brain, you are boring me and I have better things to do right now.” Inappropriate things fly about the room at that point before reason takes over and fun things happen. At least it’s fun to me.