July 2012

The Zombie Shuffle

I had the rare opportunity last night to go outside the bar. A friend of mine had left his wallet on the bar, since I knew what direction he had left I tracked him down and got it back to him. Walking back to the bar I got to witness what I can only describe as Zombie Drunk. This guy was about sixty years old with a killer walrus mustache, walking through the bank parking lot and he was so drunk that he was walking like a zombie you see in the movies except he could only do it in a straight line.

Fear And Loathing, And More Fear

Hunter S. Thompson was a great writer. He made images come alive inside your imagination to help you see the story he put down on paper, whether those images were good or disturbing is up to the reader’s interpretation. Last night something was said to me that left nothing to the imagination except bad, gross, horrible images that I am still trying to erase from my memory banks with a little help from beer and a sleeping pill.

Good Vibrations

The things you hear sometimes at the bar can make you stop in your tracks, of course you don’t always want people to know that you actually heard them but in some cases you just can’t help it. Take for instance last night when I heard a woman say “I farted and gave a woman sitting on the same bench an orgasm. Apparently when I farted, it vibrated the bench and made her cum! She leaned over and asked if I could do it again! It was awesome!” Now, if that had been a guy, the woman would have been grossed out instead of pleased by the experience, but then that’s a whole other issue.

Blah Blah, Money, Blah Blah, Mexican

If, for some reason, you feel the need to be the loudest most obnoxious person in the bar, talking about how much money you have and how important you are, please go bother someone else. I’m sorry if you have no friends but that is not how to procure them here. This is not a big city and nobody cares how self important you are. Try going with the flow and just being yourself and maybe listen to other people talk a little bit and someone might just like you for who you are, not what you say you have. Just one more thing, trying not to sound like a racist might help a little bit too.

A Swing(er) And A Miss(ter)

Here’s a new one for you! So, creepy older swinger couple comes in, that’s nothing new, but when the husband gets drunk and smells a newly twenty one year olds head and then kisses it, well, that’s just weird. Then, when the kid freaks out (understandably) he apologizes and says “Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you were my wife!” Come on man, that guy looks nothing like your wife, he has shorter and darker hair, is skinnier and WAY better looking!

Party Train Disaster

The one woman Party Train rolled in last night. She was out to get drunk and apparently accomplished her goal with flying colors. She started off with a cocktail and then moved on to shots, that’s when the Party Train derailed, spilling toxic ooze all over the landscape, and yes, I do mean that she puked. Thank God it was at the end of the night and we were closing up anyway, because that smell wasn’t going to be keeping anyone around.

Dazed And Confused

I love it when someone says something that just strikes me as funny. It’s not necessarily the actual words that were said, but the context. Take for example the words “I just don’t know how we even started talking about that!” As words, a pretty normal statement, but throw in the fact that the girl that said it was extremely intoxicated and upset because the conversation was not going her way and she had a snotty bitchy voice, and there you have a statement that strikes me as funny. I just wanted to interject and say “Of course it doesn’t make sense to you.


Bend Summer Fest, a great way to socialize with people from town, check out some live music and enjoy what Central Oregon has to offer. Or, for some, it’s an excuse to get out of the meth lab and head north to see a free show and live it up for a night in the big city. I’m not exaggerating here when I actually said “Holly shit!” and hoped these people didn’t sit at the bar, and was relieved when they sat in my cocktail waitresses section.

We Don't Need No Stinking Badges!

If you are being pursued by the police, don’t come into my bar expecting anyone in there to save you. We are not an old mission circa the 1800’s offering sanctuary like in the old spaghetti westerns. For one, that never works and secondly, you are just going to piss everyone off in the bar that doesn’t want to deal with the police at 2:00am. Step up and deal with whatever drunken stupidity you have created for yourself and leave the rest of us out of it please.

Wedding Pre-Funk

Wedding season is in full swing here in Central Oregon, and with it comes the barrage of bachelor and bachelorette parties, and with those come funny tales of debauchery and idiocy. Take for example our group of giggly pre-wedding girls last night. It was a scream-fest, complete with penis straws and a tiara clad bride-to-be, sprinkle in a bunch of Jell-O shots and what do you get? Said bride to be falling off her barstool, tiara and pink boa all over the place due to the bone jarring impact of pink-clad ass bouncing off the hard floor. OUCH!