(no subject)
Sitting at powells. Browsing through job on craigslist..a normal routine for me lately in attempts of distract myself from more important obligations. New gay nightclub opening up. What do I have to loose. Come to the Eagle and drop off a resume. I just so happen to have a copy of my resume in my briefcase I printed out two days prior. The thought of going to the Eagle makes me nervous. I find a way to cope/calm myself down. I stop in at Diesel in hopes of finding the leather jacket I fell in love with in Seattle. I order it. I cross Burnside and head to the intersection of Burnside and Stark to the bar that's always scared me. I go inside...
My first night of work. Barback. Nervousness begins to fade. There is less leather then I had anticipated. Asthetically I don't fit in. I like my co-workers. Ass grabbed. I feel like i'm on display. I like it.
"Inappropriate behavior" that is no longer tolerated in the bar (read: sex). That alleged sexual behavior, by the way, used to be one of this club's main draws. He took down the sex sling and started kicking seedy people out. I will be working here learning how to bartend until the owner opens Casey's, a new gay nightclub opening in Old Town.
Monday - first night bartending. I don't know how to bartend. No one really cares. I'm learning. I meet Jim. Jim is about 60 years old. He comes to the bar everyday. He is an alcoholic and is addicted to oxycodine. While working as a barback years ago Jim came into the bar in a rage and punched a hole in the bathroom wall. He was fired and asked to not come back. The next day he tried to kill himself. Jim is back but no longer works. I like him, he's a nice guy. He talks a lot. He's going to drive me crazy.
Last night was fetish night. They harpooned 8 needles into a guys chest of both sides. Red ribbon was strung around the needles and to the walls as he stood there smiling in a crowded bar of men of all ages. Drinks in hand. The leather community drinks a lot of O'doules. Most don't drink at all. The Eagle regulars have a barfly. Single lady with 6 kids. She looks like Sharon Stone. I saw a big fat hairy men suck her stileto. These people are into some fucked up shit. This is not a normal job. I like being in this strange strange situation. Life keeps getting more and more interesting.
My first night of work. Barback. Nervousness begins to fade. There is less leather then I had anticipated. Asthetically I don't fit in. I like my co-workers. Ass grabbed. I feel like i'm on display. I like it.
"Inappropriate behavior" that is no longer tolerated in the bar (read: sex). That alleged sexual behavior, by the way, used to be one of this club's main draws. He took down the sex sling and started kicking seedy people out. I will be working here learning how to bartend until the owner opens Casey's, a new gay nightclub opening in Old Town.
Monday - first night bartending. I don't know how to bartend. No one really cares. I'm learning. I meet Jim. Jim is about 60 years old. He comes to the bar everyday. He is an alcoholic and is addicted to oxycodine. While working as a barback years ago Jim came into the bar in a rage and punched a hole in the bathroom wall. He was fired and asked to not come back. The next day he tried to kill himself. Jim is back but no longer works. I like him, he's a nice guy. He talks a lot. He's going to drive me crazy.
Last night was fetish night. They harpooned 8 needles into a guys chest of both sides. Red ribbon was strung around the needles and to the walls as he stood there smiling in a crowded bar of men of all ages. Drinks in hand. The leather community drinks a lot of O'doules. Most don't drink at all. The Eagle regulars have a barfly. Single lady with 6 kids. She looks like Sharon Stone. I saw a big fat hairy men suck her stileto. These people are into some fucked up shit. This is not a normal job. I like being in this strange strange situation. Life keeps getting more and more interesting.