hell's half acre off to a roaring, if not appropriate, start.
let's try to get this underway before those last three drinks set in.
again, here we are, at the end of my shift.
probably the worst time to try to put anything down, but it's really all i've got all the same.
so far, this has the makings of one seriously fucked up summer.
saturday afternoon: i get a call from a friend to ride for a few hours through and outside of town. bitchin'. if there's one thing i like more than an extended ride with no particular destination it's having someone to join me.
after several hours of general dicking around on and off our fair city's streets, we join some friends for drinks at one of the few bars in town i'll walk into. he buys the first round, i buy the second and so on.
we hit a couple of places, have a few drinks, nothing crazy by any stretch. just before leaving the last bar to catch a show, a friend of ours (rather drunkenly) decides to drive home. we all put the kibosh on that and felt much better for it.
after finishing our beers we head to ol' reliable to settle in for the evening. it is worth mentioning, by the way, that my traveling companion just got his bike and is a wee bit gung ho for the damned thing. this being stated, we were zipping like hell outta downtown to get to our spot. as we hop the curb and park... the party lights go up. i am of course, referring to the ones mounted atop police cruisers.
fuck.
stopped for failure to stop at several signs.
of course i reply i've had a couple of drinks. i was by no means drunk. nor was my buddy. he (of course) after mouthing off throughout all of the sobriety tests gets cuffed and thrown to the dogs in county. after one brief test and several yes and no sirs i am told to have a fine night and continue my drinking.
round for round equals and i was only a cunt hair from having to wish my mother a happy mother's day from county lockup.
sunday night rolls up quick.
right outta the gate i learn that one of our regulars whom we're all actually fond of is in the i.c.u. after bad auto accident.
his brother (another well loved frequenter of the house) tells us with tears in his eyes that the young man lovingly referred to as "sammich" drank way too much at the ren-fair and after telling a friend some troubles wrapped his car around a tree.
a coma was induced to prevent any further swelling of his brain and any subsequent damage further than that incurred by the initial impact. god damn it. shortly thereafter, i am informed that another friend of mine has been diagnosed with inoperable throat cancer and was given ten to twelve months at best.
upshot: our boy in the wreck is still in a bad way. the ct scans look good though. severe trauma aside they should be able to bring him around. there will be rehab. shit will be hard. looks like he'll pull through.
our other friend, as it turns out, does not actually have any sort of cancer. it was all he could think of to tell another friend why he hasn't been around in so long.
two edged sword that one. on the one hand it's unbelievably shortsighted and calloused of our friend to use that particular excuse for his absence, while it's only fitting for his personality. he's out there and that is precisely why we love him.
were he any different his company would lose a pretty noticeable depreciation in value. i suppose you gotta take the good with the bad.
this bar's a funny place.
it's gone from an entertaining place to get drunk and meet the occasional bedmate to a place of employment to a place where i genuinely get to know and care about a good many of our customers. we're not the regular hip kid bar. at times i love and hate that. most places wouldn't afford the time nor interest to give a shit about most of our customers. another two edged sword.
the thing i always liked about waiting tables was that very little intimacy was allowed. sure you knew it was someone's birthday or breakup, but only because that would enhance their service and your tip at the end of the meal. here you learn these things because you have a very real interest in these people. not just as customers but as people you see every day from every side of the tracks. people who have been around. people who want to share. sometimes because they've had a bit too much, sometimes because you've heard enough of their stories to know where they're coming from, sometimes because this is the only place they're comfortable and sometimes just 'cause.
hell, i'd love a level of detachment from these kids and most of the time it would probably be best for me.
on the whole though i think that's the only reason to be good at and really enjoy this business.
as a person who, in their private life, isn't so good at making these connections and usually shies from them, i can at least be a compassionate ear that, while not necessarily can offer any decent insight, can be there to listen and genuinely give a shit.
whether the kids are buying drinks or not.
hell, what does my dumbass know. i gotta ride a scooter home in the rain at five thirty in the morning.
g'night all, some kinda clouds on the horizon.
again, here we are, at the end of my shift.
probably the worst time to try to put anything down, but it's really all i've got all the same.
so far, this has the makings of one seriously fucked up summer.
saturday afternoon: i get a call from a friend to ride for a few hours through and outside of town. bitchin'. if there's one thing i like more than an extended ride with no particular destination it's having someone to join me.
after several hours of general dicking around on and off our fair city's streets, we join some friends for drinks at one of the few bars in town i'll walk into. he buys the first round, i buy the second and so on.
we hit a couple of places, have a few drinks, nothing crazy by any stretch. just before leaving the last bar to catch a show, a friend of ours (rather drunkenly) decides to drive home. we all put the kibosh on that and felt much better for it.
after finishing our beers we head to ol' reliable to settle in for the evening. it is worth mentioning, by the way, that my traveling companion just got his bike and is a wee bit gung ho for the damned thing. this being stated, we were zipping like hell outta downtown to get to our spot. as we hop the curb and park... the party lights go up. i am of course, referring to the ones mounted atop police cruisers.
fuck.
stopped for failure to stop at several signs.
of course i reply i've had a couple of drinks. i was by no means drunk. nor was my buddy. he (of course) after mouthing off throughout all of the sobriety tests gets cuffed and thrown to the dogs in county. after one brief test and several yes and no sirs i am told to have a fine night and continue my drinking.
round for round equals and i was only a cunt hair from having to wish my mother a happy mother's day from county lockup.
sunday night rolls up quick.
right outta the gate i learn that one of our regulars whom we're all actually fond of is in the i.c.u. after bad auto accident.
his brother (another well loved frequenter of the house) tells us with tears in his eyes that the young man lovingly referred to as "sammich" drank way too much at the ren-fair and after telling a friend some troubles wrapped his car around a tree.
a coma was induced to prevent any further swelling of his brain and any subsequent damage further than that incurred by the initial impact. god damn it. shortly thereafter, i am informed that another friend of mine has been diagnosed with inoperable throat cancer and was given ten to twelve months at best.
upshot: our boy in the wreck is still in a bad way. the ct scans look good though. severe trauma aside they should be able to bring him around. there will be rehab. shit will be hard. looks like he'll pull through.
our other friend, as it turns out, does not actually have any sort of cancer. it was all he could think of to tell another friend why he hasn't been around in so long.
two edged sword that one. on the one hand it's unbelievably shortsighted and calloused of our friend to use that particular excuse for his absence, while it's only fitting for his personality. he's out there and that is precisely why we love him.
were he any different his company would lose a pretty noticeable depreciation in value. i suppose you gotta take the good with the bad.
this bar's a funny place.
it's gone from an entertaining place to get drunk and meet the occasional bedmate to a place of employment to a place where i genuinely get to know and care about a good many of our customers. we're not the regular hip kid bar. at times i love and hate that. most places wouldn't afford the time nor interest to give a shit about most of our customers. another two edged sword.
the thing i always liked about waiting tables was that very little intimacy was allowed. sure you knew it was someone's birthday or breakup, but only because that would enhance their service and your tip at the end of the meal. here you learn these things because you have a very real interest in these people. not just as customers but as people you see every day from every side of the tracks. people who have been around. people who want to share. sometimes because they've had a bit too much, sometimes because you've heard enough of their stories to know where they're coming from, sometimes because this is the only place they're comfortable and sometimes just 'cause.
hell, i'd love a level of detachment from these kids and most of the time it would probably be best for me.
on the whole though i think that's the only reason to be good at and really enjoy this business.
as a person who, in their private life, isn't so good at making these connections and usually shies from them, i can at least be a compassionate ear that, while not necessarily can offer any decent insight, can be there to listen and genuinely give a shit.
whether the kids are buying drinks or not.
hell, what does my dumbass know. i gotta ride a scooter home in the rain at five thirty in the morning.
g'night all, some kinda clouds on the horizon.