Impotent Jerk

Why is it that some people just don’t get it? By the time you are in your fifties you should have at least a bit of self respect and half a clue on how to conduct yourself. Whether it’s in public or in life, this is something you should have learned through a few hard lessons and “character building” experiences along the way in your decades upon this planet earth. When you come into the bar at closing time with your “date” who happens to be wearing a red-wine stained blazer and a nose that WC Fields would be proud of, and start hitting on younger and hotter chicks than your Hawaiian shirt, cargo short wearing fat ass should even be talking too, you should recognize that you have a problem. Just go home, take care of business with your latest sugar mama (seriously, she should be checked for diabetes) and leave the rest of us alone, we are just trying to do our job and get home to relax. Some dead giveaway clues that you may not be wanted in the bar at closing time could be, but are not limited to, that nobody acknowledges your existence even though you are loud and obnoxious, when someone finally talks to you it is to tell you they are no longer serving and that they are closing and then when you keep hanging around you are repeatedly asked to leave because its closing time. If you can’t find a way to catch on to these simple hints there is no hope for you and you should just continue on being an obnoxious ass, because I’m sure that’s what will be happening. See you tomorrow jackass.

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The Skank-Tity Of Marriage

Well, its official, Creepy Old Married Guy season is now upon us. I had my first sighting last night and it wasn’t pretty. Two older guys came in, one with a wedding ring and the other with the obvious wedding ring indentation on his finger, looking for “Where the action is” in town, hitting on everything that moved in the bar. I have to say, the funniest part of the whole ordeal was the girl getting a drink at the bar noticing one of the guys about to say something to her and she turned and looked at him and said “I’m sure what you’re about to say to me is going to be hilarious and insightful!” and walked away before a sound could come out of his mouth. I actually laughed out loud at him. After one of them knocked over his beer, they must have figured out that it was a futile endeavor and split before the other one could finish his beer. I just never understood the whole “What happens in (insert any place you can go on a guys retreat and act like an ass trying to cheat on your significant other) stays in (blank)!“ I guess I’m just old fashioned, either that or I just don’t like getting STDs, bringing them home, giving them to my partner and ruining the life we’ve built together because I have to go out and poke some skank. Hey, whatever floats your boat.

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he could have been newly divorced...
but probably not

he could have been newly divorced...
but probably not

he could have been newly divorced...
but probably not

Were they from N.C.? If so, I think my girlfriend and I ran into them at another local dive on Thursday! BWAHAHAHAHA!

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Just Your Average Everyday Dipshits

I think a sitcom test run came into the bar last night. I didn’t see any cameras or anything like that around, but those networks can be sneaky you know. It was the perfect scenario, you take four friends, the nerdy intellectual (Rustle), the slovenly micro-brew hoodie wearer (Boner), the dreadlock guy with a Where’s Waldo hat on (Darnell) and a guy that looks like Napoleon Dynamite but with a leather jacket and a Jean Claude Van Damme pony tail (Jackson) and there you have it. A perfect misfit bunch of drunken scalawags out on the town to make a few laughs on a ski vacation, looking for a little action. First Boner accidentally insults a cute girl at the bar, her boyfriend gets mad so Darnell try’s to smooth things over and only makes it worse so Jackson has to step in and kick some ass while Rustle pays the bill so everyone can beat it before the fuzz shows up. There you go major network, there is your first episode of “Just Your Average Everyday Dipshits” and I give this to you free of charge. Only, instead of a fight they were just loud and obnoxious and didn’t actually do anything interesting. Yeah, so what, I make up shit in my head to entertain myself at work. At least I wash my hands after using the bathroom.

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Can I Get Purple Dog With A Splash Of Confusion?

“What kind of Greyhounds do you make?” Yes, this is a question that I received several times last night. My response? “What do you mean? A Greyhound is a Greyhound, if it is not made with grapefruit juice and vodka then it is not a Greyhound, it would have a different name. Could you be a little more specific?” In a very pleasant tone of course. I had responses from basil and mint to blueberry in trying to describe what they wanted, that I can deal with. For one, we have none of those things and it made it easier for me to give them other options for drinks that they might like. Now, when the girl came up and asked what kind of ginger ale we had and asked if we had one that was spicy? Now that is just ridiculous! You are in a dive bar, what you see is what you get. Spicy ginger ale? You are lucky we have real ginger ale at all. A lot of bars don’t even have that. Would I go into a grocery store and ask if they had something like milk but was made out of wine and tasted like pizza? Or go into a café and after the guy sitting next to me ordered ham and scrambled eggs said “Yes, I’d like to have exactly what he’s having but can you make it an eggs benedict with mashed potatoes and chicken?” Things are called what they are for a reason, no matter what they are. Don’t compare one thing to something completely different and expect me to understand what you want when it’s Friday night and I’m three people deep at the bar, all yelling drink orders at me. Oh well, it’s time for me to go to bed in the cat box and finish my beer that looks more like pinot-pizzio.

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Steak Yes, But Hold The Skirt Steak Thank You

For all of the psychos and annoying happenings last night, the bums and the tweaker family circus (happy birthday by the way to the sister-cousin-girlfriend) there was an awesome ray of sunshine. I got to introduce someone to the ribeye steak. One of my regulars had never had a steak at our place and was getting really excited about trying it, that is until I introduced him to the ribeye steak and eggs breakfast with hash browns, a biscuit and gravy, then he was ecstatic. The look of anticipation on his face reminded me something along the lines of how I must have looked the first time I got to go on the big rides at the fair as a youngster, complete and utter joy. His mind was racing when the medium rare beauty was placed in front of him. Where to start? After the first bite of that seared brown monster I could tell he was asking himself “What took me so long to do this?” It was great to introduce someone to a new gastronomic experience, so simple, yet so satisfying. When he was done the look of satisfaction beaming from his face was worth all the buffoonery that I had to put up with the rest of the evening. Even hearing about the lap dance that my cook got out on the back patio couldn’t ruin my night after that, and trust me, the mental images that are still seared into my brain after hearing about jelly ass on his thigh are not going to be easy to ignore for a good long while.

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Buck, your posts make me laugh out loud, missed you last weekend, hope the Winterfest was great!

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