Just another day in paradise...

"Erections, Ejaculation, Exhibitions, and General Tales of Ordinary Madness" -Charles Bukowski

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

Bartending Blues

One of my very best friends sent me this email today after a hard night at work. I found it amusing... so might you.

weird crowd, weird people tonight. steady busy i guess made some great money but it was one of those nights where the money didnt even make the night worth while. i just stood back at one point and thought to myself, what am i doing here? this job is making me hate people... its making me so numb to the public. i mean it gives me insight on what people are really like but i dont know if i want to know that. between getting called a bitch too my face and being so weirded out by this one guy i was ready to throw my towel in the well and just walk out. and not walk out of anger or anything like that just walk out and not look back and i guess in a way be okay with that. never look back and i guess disappear. every night i work i learn whos involved with what or who and everything in between just because when the drunks get drunker the guard gets let down. i dont want to see the guard at all ever. its like im a huge book pf secrets on everyone in this stupid incestual town, ya know? i dont want to know whos doing who or what with who and and when and how etc.

so now u date a bartender. yeah get mad cause im irritable cause i havent slept in 2 days. i fucking drink more redbull that water and i havent eaten a normal, home cooked meal in months. i eat bacon buns at 3 am and take sleeping pills to fall asleep so i can wake up and drink coffee and more redbull to get through my next shift. so yeah im cranky. and yes i get hit on. but its not a fucking compliment nor does it appeal to me. im with you and i want to be with you. ur who i come home to and thats all that matters. yes, its sunday night and im going out for drinks. my job isnt like ur job. i start at 8pm and get off at 3am.. i work weekends so weekdays are "my weekends". layoff. no i dont get drunk at work and if i did, thats my deal not urs. im not driving and god knows im alot safer with my coworkers than the general public. i take shots. alot of them. and i dont like to say no. so like it. im going home with you. yes i know other guys at other bars. they party at my work. im social. i meet people. i dont hear u complaining when ur bill is six bucks for a a round of shots.... yeah thats what i thought. we all work in the same industry and we have that in common. no i didnt date them and no i didnt fuck them. yes they probably want to fuck me but so does ur best friend, so get over it i want you and only you. me at work and me at home are two different people. its game time and im ready to play.

and yes i get hit on alot. no its not a compliment when the person hitting on u is drooling and so drunk he just pissed his pants. yes thats really flattering. no i dont want to give u my number cause if i did, i would. and all of the sudden i might "have a boyfriend" and as far as ur concerned we are about to "get engaged" so get out of my face and let me serve u ur cocktail so i can move on with my life. oh and yes i am sure i am "the most beautiful girl you've ever seen". fuck, as far as ur concerned im ur dream girl. ie: plaid skirt, knee highs, fake boobs and serve you beer, get u drunk and send u off with all ur buddies to have "the best night ever". yeah, i bet im ur fucking dream girl. ass. but lets remember what bartending is. ITS A FUCKING JOB. and i do it to make money. so if humoring u for a few extra minutes is going to get me a great fucking tip, u might get lucky cause theres times where i really want a new pair of jeans and ur wallets got the money to make that happen. but remember asshole, there's a fucking bar between you and me and thats what makes my job that much easier. we've got a big cement barrier and thank god for that.

dont ask me for a free drink. if i want to buy you one, believe me I WILL... and if u dont have the money to tip, then u dont have the money to drink. so go back to ur cubicle and see if one of ur loans went through... then come back and talk to me.

and no i dont have the calorie content in the vodka u just ordered. sure i have sugarfree redbull... but that cactus cooler shots uve been taking all night arent low cal low carb... but who counts shots anyway right?

and ya know what boys, order a fucking beer! if i have to hear from one more orange county dipshit that "beer makes you fat" im gonna scream. be a man, have a beer, infact have 10, mow the lawn, be able to hang a picture for ur girlfriend, and stop wearing the same jeans i have, i dont care how good ur ass looks, ur a guy... u shouldnt even care .... live a littlle... EAT CARBS *gasp* i know and lay off the tanning bed, u have less tan lines than i do... i dont want to date me, i want to date you... a man... fuck burp if u have too.

i remember walking towards the server well and just thinking "my god, i cant believe the world im in right now"..." and all i want is to go into the privacy of my room, shut my door and stay there.... letting only the people i want in my life, in my life".... and at times i feel like my life is on display... people know me just because of where i work and they know what is going on in my life and whether or not i have a boyfriend and stuff like that people who dont even know my last name should never know...

and then this one guy just wouldnt quit tonight. and normally i brush off stupid dudes but this one followed me from one end of the bar to the other and wouldnt tell me what he wanted and wouldnt take the "i slept two hrs, im not getting creative " excuse and when he asked me about "how my boyfriend handles me, am i satisfied?" i turned to the other bartender and told him to help me.... so he served the asshole who then called me a bitch for ignoring him.... well thats fucking great cause when theres 50 other people who actually know what they want and who are going to tip, i might get to them a bit quicker u fucking idiot pervert. ive never felt so digusted by someone in my life and i have met some pretty big jerks. fuck.

and then its like when im busy and im "not smiling" people get on my case about being tired, bitchy, pissed off, sad, angry... u name it.... fuck do u smile everyday at ur job? NO! It's 12:30 am, i havent slept and im serving a bunch of drunks at work on a monday night... please tell me why i need to be smiling? is it going to make ur drink come out faster? no. is it going to make it taste better? no. is it going to make ur night that much better? no. will me smiling help you sleep at night? fuck no. and is it going to make u tip better? no. because i could smile all god damn day and the tips are pretty much gonna be the same.... im busy, im sweaty, im tired, im hungry, im soaking wet, i smell, my feet are wet, my hands are cut up, ill probably get bar rot and i have lemon in my hair.... FUCK YOU for telling me to smile. you go effing smile cause all i want is to make ur drinks and get ur money! now if its a nice sunday afternoon and im not slammed, sure ill fucking smile for you if it makes u feel THAT much better... hey i might even laugh at ur retarded jokes and maybe even humor ur bad pick up lines but when its busy and my sock are soacked to my knees, this bitch aint smilin' and u can like it... ill pass on ur 50 cent tip if i can move u along and get to the poor smuck behind you....

and when i do get to you, know what the fuck u want. this isnt ur last drink and if it is, ill buy it for u if it makes u decide quicker. and i promise u that if i pour u a coors light and tell u its bud light ull never know the damn differenceand no EVEN YOU cant tell. fuck. i dont want to make u a damn lemon drop when im busy and i wont make u a mojito. ever. so if thats what u fancy, walk ur fat ass over to the fucking cannery and have them muddle some damn mint. and no i dont have a blender and yes i am happy about that because at one point in my life i had nightmares that we were getting one. fucking nightmares about a blender. jesus.

"i want one red headed slut, one jager bomb, one washington apple, one wet pussy and one chocolate cake. oh and one bud light bottle, one bud light draft and a vodka grapfruit. oh and a mind eraser. " "and can u put each one on a seperate card and close us all out?now?"

sure u fucking dumbass. and while im at it, ill drop ur lemon wedge on the floor, give u a dirty glass and and underpour all ur stupid fucking drinks and shots because if ur going to be selfish idiot than so am i. the difference is i know im being a douchebag, u on the otherhand think its okay to make my life a living hell. last time i checked, this wasnt fucking the four season and no u cant have it ur way everytime. and by the way a "tall" means more juice, not more alcohol u fucking shithead.... u think a bar would just "not charge you" for an extra ounce of vodka. dumbass. so when u "cant taste the alcohol" that because u got more juice nitwit! and if u want a strong or "stiff" cocktail, order a double and tip me well... ill remember either way and i will remember.. plus tell all the other bartenders what a jackass u are so a.we can laugh at you b. not serve u unless ur the last person standing at the bar and all the dishes are done and the bar is stocked and ive taken a long ass break, checked my phone and done my makeup... kids, a good tip goes a LOOONNGGG way. as does not being a complete social reject but hey no ones perfect right?

no i dont care about ur problems. i dont care that ur such a drunk ur wife divorced u and moved to idaho with ur 3 kids. i dont care that u havent slept cause u were on a 4 day coke binge in mexico with 20 of ur closest buddies who all where button down white collared shirts, seven jeans, square toed shoes, a watch theyy saved 10 years for, a bmw they lease but live out of cause the payments are so high theycant afford rent and there commission check hasnt come in from Lending Tree....i.dont.care. and u shouldnt care what i do, WHAT CAR MY BOYFRIEND DRIVES (a pinto) and why i am not smiling today. oh and u arent doing me a favor by tipping me huge (read: $3 on $20 ... wow big spender jack ass!) because i guarantee ive been around more money than coke has been up ur nose and i dont care. ur "big tip" isnt fucking saving me. im not bartending cause im some broke chick with 20 kids from 20 guys waiting around to meet "the one" when he stumbles in friday night for his 10th drink that night. i bartend because when all the douche bags are too hung over to see the outside of their bedroom, its acutally quite fun.... i have met some pretty rad people and the people i work with are fucking amazing. u can meet some hardworking and down to earth people in the restaurant business and those are the people that come in and act like human beings.... industry people are the best. easygoing and they scratch our back and we scratch theirs. its a fucking family.

alright, im over this night.... but wow i feel so much better... kind of went of on a tangent, but i definitly feel better... i may do this more often! GOOD NIGHT... errr Good Morning!


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