confessions of a paranoid bar manager
It's hard to work your way through a room when everyone is watching your every move.
...Everyone wants something from you, almost everyone. It all works on different levels really... And it makes me honestly question how good people really are.
Breaking up fights, cleaning toilets, mopping floors, crunching away at an endless mound of paperwork, cleaning the kitchen, keep them drinking, keep them from getting too drunk, watching everyone leave with friends at the end of the night... well, everyone except me. And people talk about how glam my job must be.
I can never let my guard down here, by the time someone walks in the door and sits down at the bar I know their intentions, how much they have had to drink, if they drove to the bar or not, and usually how long they are going to stay. I have to watch my cash register every time it is opened, and my doors at the end of the night to make sure its closed.
Believe it or not this county is way different than I would have ever expected... People use different slang, some dress oddly, and people love to stab each other in the back... I can sense so many daggers with my name engraved that I know the odds are someone will give me my first test soon. Most of these people don't battle with wits either, they use loud profanity, dirty looks, and threats of violence to try emphasizing their points.
It seems like I'm 200 instead of 20 miles away from home... Maybe its just the waiting game. I might eventually find out who is with me, and who is against me. It's hard to tell because everyones smile is starting to look fake to me now.
...Everyone wants something from you, almost everyone. It all works on different levels really... And it makes me honestly question how good people really are.
Breaking up fights, cleaning toilets, mopping floors, crunching away at an endless mound of paperwork, cleaning the kitchen, keep them drinking, keep them from getting too drunk, watching everyone leave with friends at the end of the night... well, everyone except me. And people talk about how glam my job must be.
I can never let my guard down here, by the time someone walks in the door and sits down at the bar I know their intentions, how much they have had to drink, if they drove to the bar or not, and usually how long they are going to stay. I have to watch my cash register every time it is opened, and my doors at the end of the night to make sure its closed.
Believe it or not this county is way different than I would have ever expected... People use different slang, some dress oddly, and people love to stab each other in the back... I can sense so many daggers with my name engraved that I know the odds are someone will give me my first test soon. Most of these people don't battle with wits either, they use loud profanity, dirty looks, and threats of violence to try emphasizing their points.
It seems like I'm 200 instead of 20 miles away from home... Maybe its just the waiting game. I might eventually find out who is with me, and who is against me. It's hard to tell because everyones smile is starting to look fake to me now.