Gar

I just realized that I've had one day off since a week ago Saturday. Holy crap. No wonder I'm tired! At least I get to go to Denver next week and visit with one of my best girlfriends. 4 days. I deserve it.

When I got home from work last night/this morning, the DH was watching a movie. After a while, we moved into the bedroom, when he got up to use the bathroom. One of the cats decided that he wanted to be in there desperately, so started scratching at the door. DH comes out and says "What the hell is your problem, ButtKnuckles?" That is not the cat's name. ButtKnuckles. Maybe I was just exhausted to the point of finding everything funny, but WTF? So I asked him where that came from. The DH replies "Everything is funny if you put the word 'knuckles' after it". ButtKnuckles, EyeKnuckles, ToeKnuckles, etc. Then I thought of my online friend who has Knuckles in her username, and lost it even more.

Re-reading this, I must be overtired, becuase while I'm laughing aloud, my brain is processing this as "Crackhead, this is not an amusing story at all".

Service Industry

If anyone reading this blog is a sister or brother in The Industry, you need to rush to Amazon.com right now and purchase "Clam Chowder: The Server's Field Manual" by Matt Lehman. Seriously. Don't ask why. Just buy it.

This past weekend flew/dragged by. Gophers v. Iowa at the Stinkydome. I have no idea where to start to describe it. It's still fuzzy. It's all fuzzy. Waited tables from 8:30 a.m. to noon. People were lined up outside the door, knocking (no, we didn't forget to unlock the door, WE'RE NOT OPEN YET THAT'S WHY THE NEON'S NOT ON) by the time I arrived to open. It got to the point where I just tried to run drinks (Jaeger-bombs at 10 a.m. - WHAT?), take food orders and scream "Excuse me, small, angry server coming through" to get 5 feet from point A to point B. And WHY do people insist on standing in front of the waitstation to get a drink? The bartenders know who the servers are, and standing in the waitstation is going to get you ignored, not served faster. If you are standing in front of my POS computer, you are going to end up with a nasty bruise in your ribcage. I have razorblades in my elbows. Went home, took a nap, went back at 5 p.m. to manage. By then, most of the sporties had left, but there were birthday parties to contend with. Hipsters turning 25 squick me out. I'm just leaving it at that.

A note for the younger set: Just because you come in every Sunday for karoke and you wear clothes that I chucked to SalArm in 1987, doesn't give you license to not tip. Please.

I've been angry and bitter for 2 weeks now, and I'm ready to get over it. Please and thank you.

"I Can't Bike No-Handed!"

Last call has come and gone. Bar is finally empty. Closing proceeds. Suddenly, the back door opens and a customer comes in stating she needs to pee and will only be a second. Her buddy who is waiting for her cab to show up (he's riding his bike), comes in also. Her cab shows up and she leaves. Buddy decides to chat with us and light up a cigarette (smoking in public areas is illegal in Minneapolis). I tell him to take it outside and leave. He yells at me "I can't bike no-handed!!!".

I have no idea what that means. It was 2:35 in the morning. We closed at 2. Get the fuck out of my bar.

By the way, if you don't work in the service industry, a tip for you. Don't wait until 2:15 a.m. to call a cab if the bar closes at 2 a.m. and don't EVEN complain to me about having to wait outside for the cab. Especially on the weekends. Call a cab around 1:45 a.m. You aren't missing anything exciting, and you don't have to wait outside in the cold. Get over it. And when I take your 3/4 full drink at 2:10 a.m. (because if I don't, we could lose our license), don't bitch at me. You know what time bar close is and you know how long it takes you to drink something. Just hand it over.

And NEVER put $5 worth of music into the jukebox at 1:50 a.m. You aren't going to hear your songs, and I'm not giving your money back because you are an idiot.

Whew. Thanks. I need a week in the Bahamas.

And The Idiocy Continues

Customer at bar approaches me...

CAB: I've lost my cell phone.
Me: Oh, that's no good. Have you tried calling it to see if it's here?
CAB: Yes. I think one of your employees may have it.
Me: Really? What makes you think that?
CAB: Because I can't find it.
Me: Um. Oooookaaaaay. We have terribly honest employees, they've turned in purses and wallets and phones. I highly doubt that one would find a phone and keep it.
CAB: Whatever.
Me: Can you give me a number where I can reach you if it turns up?
CAB: IT'S MY CELL. I CAN'T GIVE YOU A NUMBER.
Me: Um, duly noted. Do you have a work number?
CAB: Fine. xxx-xxxx. Oh, and by the way, it's a razor.
Me (busy writing down name and number and not paying attention anymore): Wha?
CAB: A Razr. R. A. Z. R.
Me: Like this? (I reach into my pocket and pull out my pretty pink phone)
CAB: Oh. Yeah. Lemme know if you find it.

By then I was just feeling mean enough to throw it in the trash if it HAD turned up. Which it didn't. I hope the jerk found it in his car and felt like the asshole that he was.

No New Stories

But I thought it would be fun to pull an old one out of my hat.

Bartending at my last place of employment. Very quiet night. A guy comes up to the bar...

CAB: Hey, pretty lady, can I get a Bud?
Me: Sure.
CAB proceeds to shoot a game of pool with another customer.

CAB: Hey, pretty lady, can I get another?
Me: Okay.
CAB: (while I am getting bottle)Don't I know you?
Me: No, I'm pretty sure you don't.
CAB: Aw, come on, pretty girl like you? I know all the pretties.
Me: Nope. Never saw you before.
CAB: Give you a hundred for a roll across the street.
Me: (beer still in hand) Um. What?
CAB: (voice lowered) You heard me, bill for a roll. (winks)
Me: (beer goes back in beer cooler) Get. Out. Of. My. Bar. Now.
CAB: Aw, come on.
Me: I'm calling 911 unless you get out.
CAB: You wouldn't do that to me.
Me: Hello, 911, please come by Bar Z and collect a customer that refuses to leave.
Thank you.
CAB: You're playin me.

Squad shows up. CAB runs. Gets caught by lady cop. Turns out he had a warrent out for assault. Neat!

I guess it really isn't funny, but I crack up at the thought that he said he'd give me a hundred for a roll. I should have given him a roll of TP.

Just When I Thought...

My life was getting back in order, Monday Night Football attacks the MetroDome. And I still can't shake the remains of this cold.

Had one of the Best Nights Ever tho last night. My 10 year anniversary of my 6 month road trip across the nation with one of my best girlfriends. Met Dez and Lolly at Sophia (where Dez and I had our going away party), drank champagne and gorged on awesome food. My camera's battery died, so the photos were a no go. Still waiting on emailed photos from Lolly from the night.

Weird story: While I was napping/watching Law and Order in bed yesterday afternoon before going out, I was thinking of my late father. Suddenly, a music box that hasn't be wound in about 14 years started going off. I know it sounds Art Bell/Coast to Coast a little too much, but I knew it was Dad saying HI. Awesome.

The above photo is from the road trip - LA. One of my faves.