One of These Things Is Not Like The Others...

“One of these things is not like the others,
One of these things just doesn't belong,
Can you tell which thing is not like the others
By the time I finish my song?”

Yes, Sesame Street was the theme for last night. We had a bunch of flat-billed wanksters in and it totally made me think of why I am so happy I don’t work at one of the “Clubs” we have in town. These guys generate more drama than high school girls at a slumber party but with crooked hats and all kinds of fake jewelry. Seriously, I have to say I am very happy where I work and the usual clientele that I have on a regular basis. If I had to deal with these people from night to night I think I’d rather dig ditches for a living. Yes, one of the groups hanging out definitely didn’t belong in my bar and thank God the round peg finally quit trying to fit into the square hole and moved on. It would be like me trying to fit in at a fancy restaurant wearing my boots and leather jacket asking the waiter if they could change the music to Motorhead for me. “I was thinking, the Dom Perignon looks great, but what do you have in a can?”

“One of these things is not like the others,
One of these things just doesn't belong,
Can you tell which thing is not like the others
By the time I finish my song?”

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Up There With the Best of the Best

Sometimes being behind a bar is a lot like watching the old WWII movies, you know, the old black and white ones when they have the intense dogfight scenes and you know someone is going to get shot down but you’re not sure if it’s going to be a good guy or a bad guy. Well that’s what it was like last night, a couple of people went down in flames and I actually saw one hit the ground, it was pretty ugly. One girl “lightened her load” in an attempt to correct herself but the damage had been done, while yet another went headfirst into the ground, literally, and blew up with all of her crap flying out of her purse. That one was kind of funny though, because I caught her peeing out by the dumpster in the alley and when you’re that drunk trying to make a quick getaway, bad things happen. So just remember all you flying aces out there, watch your tail and know where your wingman is, they might just keep you from going down in flames.

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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. I'm pretty sure your P.O. wouldn't be too stoked......

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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.
Cheers!

I like how they have names for groups of things, like a gaggle of geese or a shrewdness of apes, and my favorite, a murder of ravens. But I think we need a term for a group of obnoxious, loud idiots that are all traveling together to make everyone they come in contact with annoyed. I was thinking along the lines of a sack of idiots, or possibly a buffoonery of dimwits. Last night a group of about twenty of these people descended upon the bar, all wearing the same hats, all tilted in some fashion trying to look cool or ganster or something like that and failing miserably. From what I gathered, the louder and more obnoxious you are gives you a greater status in the group. Short of marking their territory and flinging excriment at each other they were behaving like a bunch of chimps, or chumps, sometimes it's hard to tell. It's too bad Jane Goodall already came through town, I think she could have written a paper on these idiots.

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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. The big two one, the answer to all of life’s boring nights spent with friends wishing you could get into that magical land where all the real grownups hang out. Well, last night’s birthday boy started out his Sunday night at my bar with a couple of shots and an A.M.F. (Adios Mother Fucker), after which he and his friends asked where to go next. Of course, me wanting the young lad to have a memorable evening I suggested “Well, on a Sunday I would have to say karaoke across the street and then before you get too drunk to get in, the strip club would pretty much top off the evening.” They were quite excited about my suggestion, thanked me, tipped well and went bee bopping and skating on down the road. The poor guy, while he’s laying there all hung over today and broke he’s going to have to deal with the memories of bad singing and ugly Sunday night stripper boobs. I like helping make lasting memories for people, it just makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

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