January 2012

Archive: The Good the Bad and the Stupid

I would like to thank all of the people that make my job fun, like my crazy co-workers, whom without I could not do my job, my friends and regulars, who may not be so regular but remind me constantly why I like to go to work, and all the good people that I get to deal with daily. The idiots I appreciate too, more of in a "See Dick, see Dick drink, see Dick act like an ass-hat, don't be a Dick!" kind of way though, and also for the sweet stories......BTW if you just got out of prison, you shouldn't go hang out in the bar your first night out, trying to sell weed to the bartender.

Archive: Monkey Mob Mentality

I have been posting these little stories on Facebook for a while now, on my days off I will be filling in days with these Archive posts. I hope you have as much fun reading these posts as I have writing them.

Hooray For Birthdays!

Birthdays hold such importance to us as landmarks along the road of our lives. As a kid it’s the double digits to be considered an older kid, then thirteen to be a teenager. After that it’s sixteen for the drivers license and eighteen to be officially an adult that can buy cigarettes, lottery tickets and register as a voter to help right the wrongs in our corrupt political system. But the one that makes the biggest difference in the lives of so many young adults, the granddaddy of the all is the twenty-first birthday.

Drunk Thought Processes

It can be quite funny dealing with drunk people sometimes, to think about their thought process and how they justify to themselves why they are right and how everyone else can be so wrong. Take for example the girl tonight that could barely hold herself up on the bars at the cocktail station and had developed an acute case of Voice Modulation Syndrome and couldn’t control how loud she was speaking. I tried to quietly let her friends know that I would not be able to serve her and to make sure she didn’t get her hands on a drink.


Out of all of the customers that come into the bar there is a certain breed of people that look normal at first, and then slowly show their true self. I like to call them The Mooch. They come in all shapes and sizes, so they’re not always easy to spot, but they are a nuisance and eventually you will need to extricate them from your bar or they just piss off the paying customers. There is the obvious bum mooch, smelly and ask everyone for money.

Proof That The Sun Can Shine on a Dog's.....

So these two women came in last night and ordered a couple of drinks and shots, nothing out of the ordinary, but there was something about them I couldn’t quite put my finger on. So I struck up a little conversation with them to see what their deal was, they were friends and one of them was visiting from out of town and they were just looking for a bit of fun on a Thursday night. Fair enough, they took their drinks and moved off to the video poker to try their luck.

Handlebar Romancer

What a good crowd we had last night. No really, almost everyone was great and for some reason a lot of people were buying drinks for each other and being happy and generous. There was of course one old guy trying unsuccessfully to impress these two girls at the bar by showing them how loud and creepy he could be. Apparently the ladies used to be a bit easier to woo back in the day. Oh yeah, maybe it would be easier to pick up on girls if you had a license and a car instead of no license and a bike. For some reason riding home on your handle bars kind of kills the mood.

Archive: Mega Trash

For some reason, two times this week I have been referred to as "Dawg", last night's was particularly amusing. This poor girl should have beat down who ever said it was ok to go out in your jog-bra and tights (which were living up to their name and looking a bit on the stressed side to boot) belly hanging down to the crotch, with her braided-ponytailed muscle shirt wearing Neanderthal in tow. I am having a hard time putting into words what I was subjected to, and I have come up with Mega-Trash. Its like white trash on steroids, fueled by meth, vodka and cheese sticks.

The Smell Of Defeat

Working in the bar industry you get to see a lot of people trying to hook up in a variety of ways, but every now and then you get to experience the mating rituals of Homo-Rejectus. This poor individual is lacking the proper social skills to successfully meet and carry on a conversation with someone to which they are seeking the attention of. After having made several attempts to get an audience with the target of their advances and failed terribly they often turn to the behavior of a second grader, such as the person I saw last night.

There's Bad Hair Days, and Then There's THIS Guy....

Sometimes you see someone and just have to step back and say WOW! I think I saw THE WORST haircut ever, and I think it was on purpose but not in a funny jokey kind of way, more like he actually thought it was cool.