Winter is Here

Old Man Winter has arrived in the Northland and I believe he’s here to stay.  I spotted his RV parked in an empty lot down the street and it looks like he’s not planning on going anywhere anytime soon.  I think he’s shackin’ up with Mother Nature these days and it’s pretty disturbing.  Can’t they vacation in Arizona like the rest of the old folks?

There’s always things worth mentioning as we hunker down, snuggle up and start drinking hot totties.

A four-hour trip turned into a five plus hour trip after Thanksgiving weekend because drivers have completely forgotten how to actually drive in the snow.  Going 15 MPH doesn’t help anyone, especially when the roads aren’t THAT bad.  I realize you have no idea you just caused that 27 car pile up but it was you, completely you.

I spotted a car that had slid through a stoplight, as I approached I thought, I should stop and help them push the car out.  As I got close, I realized they had slid through the light, went in the ditch, taken out a pole and completely abandoned their car.  As if they said “oh crap, well, nothing I can do, I’ll come back for it later” and walked home.  No cops, no other cars, nothing.

Snowplow drivers will get the finger more in the next four to five months then any other drivers on the planet.  As if they can help that you JUST finished shoveling the sidewalk when they come by and push snow back on it.  And they can’t help that you JUST finished shoveling what they pushed back on the sidewalk and they do it again.  And they certainly can’t help that when you throw your shovel at their truck because it happened for the third time, that your shovel gets run over and lays mutilated in the street.  On a serious note, I do respect these people, they put endless hours in during the middle of the night so that we can have decent roads and parking lots.  Try to wave normal at them in between waving with the middle finger.

I will wish every single day for a man to be around to shovel, put plastic on the windows, take care of me when I’m sick, warm my side of the bed up and all sorts of other winter chores.  When summer comes I may change my mind and send him back but for now I will wish.

I can’t wait to see all the dog crap that doesn’t get picked up sitting on top of the snow in our yard.  Not only will it be on the neighbor’s side it will be on my side as well…and I don’t have dogs.  It’s so pleasant to look at everyday and I like it a lot when they leave a present for me on my sidewalk.  My hope is to look like a bunch of rednecks who can’t be bothered to pick up after their pets.  Makes such a great impression when I have company.  And I can’t even tell you how awesome it is when spring comes and everything thaws, gets mooshy and smells….it’s so great.

I’m looking forward to falling somewhere between 5 and 100 times.  I have a tendency to not stay on my feet at times anyway so when you add snow and ice it really makes for a busy falling season.  Good thing I packed some extra pounds on the old tush so I have plenty of padding when I fall.  Here’s to a bruised ass for the next five months and several chiropractor visits.

We will start drinking things that we never would otherwise.  I will choke down a hot brandy with lemon when I get a cold or sore throat, only because Mom used to say “drink that, it will help”.  It sure did, I passed right out and forgot about my illness.  Bars will blow the dust off their microwaves for hot totties and will stock up on Bailey’s so they can serve it with hot chocolate or coffee.

I will put winter survival stuff in my car.  Boots, blankets, a jacket, hats and gloves.  I don’t actually wear a jacket unless it’s well below zero but figure I better have one in the car just in case.  I do wear gloves though, I’m not completely insane.  For those of you who have read my book, you know that I needed those things when I found the ditch one evening in the middle of nowhere.  On my 5 hour trip a few days ago I panicked because I did not have those things in my car.  I would have looked pretty silly with no coat, hat or gloves if something had went awry.

We will see poofing out of chests and ‘my truck is bigger than yours’ wars until 4WD is no longer needed.  This time of year gives those boys who have big trucks a license to drive fast, act 16 and think women should not be on the road.  I just nod and smile, all the time thinking to myself “I can’t wait until I see you in the ditch a mile down the road in need of my help”.

And last but not least for now, if anyone is driving by on 21st Street and sees me laying in my front yard unconscious please call 911, I probably collapsed from shoveling or perhaps fell and hit my head instead of my ass.  Stay and make sure the good-looking EMTs are the ones working on me, I don’t need the toothless guy who hasn’t showered in a week giving me CPR.


Sleepless in Minnesota

I don’t like to wish ill on anyone but I am glad I’m not the only member of some clubs.  Like this sleepless issue I have, it seems others suffer from the same thing, possibly for different reasons but sleepless nonetheless.

My friend Sharon was kind enough to share her story with me and I would love to share it with all of you.  I’ve been slacking in my stories lately so guest writers are always welcome.

“Sleep or No Sleep, We Must Get Along”

As I have gone through several stages of life, sleepless nights have created a variety of entertainment for me. I have experienced bouts of sleep deprivation for many years. Reasons, reactions, and outcomes of long nights with little sleep have always resulted to be quite interesting. The positive side is the opportunity to share stories and laughter with friends.

Mischievous thoughts are plentiful when you have an awesome husband with nighttime flaws such as falling asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow. It took me many years to understand and accept this flaw. I lie next to him and want to talk about the day or ask questions about tomorrow. The usual response I get is, “Yes, dear.” and before I realize it, he’s sleeping. And I remain wondering, how does that happen and why doesn’t it happen to me? Then before I know it, his snoring begins and another sleepless night begins for me.

Years ago, one night my husband was asleep on his back, pillow over his eyes and forehead, mouth open and was snoring. My mind raced to find a solution to this problem. The only thing I could think of at the time was to hold his nose shut. I thought about it for a while before I acted. I thought, hmm, can’t hurt him because his mouth was open. So I proceeded to pinch his nose shut. As one may have guessed, that was not a smart choice. He was gasping and swinging his arms. I laughed; he didn’t because he elbowed me in the head. The next time I attempted this maneuver; I kept a slight distance from him and put a pillow by my face. I succeeded. He stopped snoring and rolled over. I remember that outcome being a little too boring for my taste.

Throughout the years, I have implemented a variety of actions that I thought would be a solution. After 20+ years of marriage, his snoring and my sleepless nights continue. As my frustrations surge, I say a few naughty words directed at him, and proceed to leave our bedroom and venture to a different bedroom.  Why I bother saying anything is beyond me because he doesn’t hear me anyways!

Last night I awakened at 12:40 a.m., wishing it was 5:40 a.m. so I could get out of bed and do something, I knew it was going to be a long night. Of course the mind starts to plan the day and prioritize everything. Like that’s going to happen when sleep has not been part of my routine for quite some time. Once again, my frustrations surged, I said a few naughty words directed at him, and proceed to leave our bedroom and venture to a different bedroom. I lay in bed and thought about our day’s accomplishments and what we still had to get done in preparation for the winter months. That did not heighten sleepiness at all because I started to smile and giggle to myself, followed by a reflection of my mischievous actions in our younger marital years.

At about 2:30 a.m., I logged onto Facebook and played Candy Crush. Through the walls, I could hear my husband snoring. I mumble utterly to myself and became completely frustrated with Candy Crush. I logged off of Facebook and thought, hmm, what can I do now? Then, I had a thought. I went to the garage because I thought of a sign I hung on the wall. I read the sign, and then looked at the boat and snow blower. This concludes how I spent the wee hours this morning.


And you two must share a garage stall!


How I Get Things Wrong

It’s amazing how I get anything right some days.

The other day I stopped for a beer with a friend and saw someone who was a regular at a bar that I work at.  She’s always been super nice and we get along well.  We exchanged hellos  through the door from the bar to the smoking patio and then I asked her how she was doing and what I heard her say was “I’ve got the shits, had them for two months, I’ve been miserable.”  Well crap (yes pun intended), what was I supposed to say to that?  I didn’t know her THAT well so I just said “Ahhh, that’s too bad.”

When she came into the bar I asked her if she was drinking and she said “No, I can’t with the medication I’m on so I’m just having coffee.”  Then I was thinking, what the heck is she having coffee for, that’s like an instant dose of laxatives, no wonder she has issues.  I started to panic and actually moved away from her for fear of an accident of some sort.

We sat there for a bit and she went back outside to have a smoke so I told my friend about the conversation and she laughed and said, “Wow, I don’t even share that stuff with you.”  After about 15 minutes the woman with the ‘problem’ came back in and started chatting with someone who had just walked in.  She started in with her story again, this time I was sitting closer to her and heard her tell that person she had shingles.  Ohhhhh, well, that made much more sense.  I started to giggle and corrected the story with my friend.  We laughed and laughed.

Once the shingle-ridden woman was by herself again I told her how I had misunderstood what she said.  We had a hearty laugh over the whole thing.  I saw her a couple weeks later while I was bartending so asked how she was doing, she said “Well, my shits are gone but I still have the shingles”.  Then she laughed and laughed and laughed.

The other day at work we had a no biting discussion.  Yes, at work we were having a no biting discussion, don’t judge.   One person was typing and typed ho biting instead of no biting.  Then said “Get your chompers in we’re going ho biting”.  I thought she said “Get your chaps on we’re going ho biting”.  At that point I was hysterical with laughter.  Once I caught my breath and told them what I thought she said, we were all hysterical and the conversation took a considerable turn for the worse as I’m sure you can only imagine.

It seems as I get older my hearing isn’t what it used to be.  I’m in the process of learning to ask someone to repeat themselves if I hear parts that don’t quite make sense.  Sometimes though it’s much funnier to go with what you think they said in the first place.  Keeps life interesting.


I’ve realized I’m jealous.  Not in the sense of I’m jealous of skinny people or I’m jealous when it comes to relationships.  I’ve realized I’m jealous over a few strange things.

I’m jealous of the Amish.  We recently visited the one-room home of an Amish woman who does some crafting.  I took in the surroundings with awe.  Gas stove. Canning supplies.  Single bed in the corner with a gorgeous handmade quilt. Organized bins for her bead work.  No TV.  No pictures.  No clutter.  No outlets.  I left there deep in thought and jealous.  Jealous of the simplicity, jealous of the lack of clutter, jealous of not having to put gas in a vehicle.  Now, I’m not going to go and attempt to join the Amish or even live like the Amish because I think it would be very difficult to move backward……especially when I write a blog.  It would be pretty hard to send you all a hand written letter with a story in it every few days (weeks lately), you each may get one every year or two.

I started watching a reality show about a family living in Alaska, like the Amish, I’m jealous of their simple life…..except the outhouse, I’m not really jealous of that aspect of it.  I guess you can’t have one without the other though.  I’d have to talk someone into digging the outhouse hole REALLY deep.

I’m jealous of chubby people who wear things that people think they shouldn’t.  I believe these people are comfortable and think they look good.  You know who I’m talking about…..those with the swimsuit two sizes too small or the ones with their ass crack hanging out because if they pull up the jeans to where they should be then they would have to buy a bigger size.  I’m chubby, I try not to wear things I shouldn’t but I’ve realized what happens is that I end up with tan lines I don’t want or like or I actually look bigger than I am because I’ve purchased something that’s actually too big for me.  This my friends I can work on; however, if you see me in a swimsuit two sizes too small or my butt crack peering out the back of my jeans like the Grand Canyon then know that I’ve turned to drinking or drugs because on a sane and sober day I would not do that…..even if someone told me I looked good.

I’m jealous of people who know how to do something cute with their hair.  You know the ones, give them a couple of pencils, two bobby pins and some toothpicks and they look like they’re red carpet ready.  I myself have two hair dos, down and up.  Up is in a pony tail or a clip, either way it’s just up.  It doesn’t look super cute with messy bulges or sleek and sexy, it looks like a pony tail, even if I spend 15 minutes on it, it still looks like I just crawled out of bed and didn’t give a crap what I look like.  Now, I rarely spend 15 minutes on my hair so maybe I should start doing that consistently and maybe I should buy some things like a comb for teasing, some goop of some sort and possibly a brush that I could use while blow drying it.  Instead I’m using a pick (yes I said a pick, leave me be, the 80’s has not called and asked for that back yet), no goop and no brush while blow drying.

I’m jealous of people who have no problem asking for help.  I’m getting better in this area but even when I do ask for help it eats at me because I hate doing it.  It’s so silly I know, I have no problem dishing out help but I sure have an issue asking for it.  If I were keeping score there would be lots of people who owe me ‘help’ but the scorecard wouldn’t matter because I’d never pull it out and use it.  This will always be a work in progress for me.

I’m jealous of people who can tolerate jackasses.  I try my hardest to be respectful to everyone, even if they’ve displayed jackassy behavior in the past but once I’m done with them, I’m done with them.  Then I get so frustrated that it eats away at me, as if I can actually do something about it.  My head knows that those people will never change, that’s just who they are, my heart thinks I could/can do something to make them see the error of their ways.  Yes, I know……..I can’t do anything about those people, stop yelling at me.  I recently sat at a business dinner with one of these people and I’ve pretty much stated to my coworkers that never seeing him again would be too soon for me.  The others just blew him off but now even the mention of his name sends me into a small tantrum.  I’m going to have to seek therapy for this one I think.

I’m jealous of people who just don’t care.   I care too much most times.  I care about people’s businesses, their families, their jobs, their well-being.  If they don’t care, why should I?  I lose sleep over the dumbest crap, not only my dumb crap, other people’s dumb crap.

Well, I’ve realized my list of things to talk to my therapist about has grown so I’m going to quit now.  I can already see my therapist bill rising like the national deficit.

Back to School

Remember this time of year when you were a kid?

These days it means something different to me and a bunch of my friends.  For me, it means the weather is going to change, Christmas is coming and I’m still not living in the Caribbean.  For some of my friends it means going to the mall, where is the money going to come from and days getting longer with extracurricular activities before and after school.

The first day of school came and pictures were taken and away we went on the bus, hoping for the best.  The pictures got developed six months down the road, maybe even longer, and your first day of school picture was mixed in with pictures from a wedding, a tree getting cut down, something on fire and 10 pictures of people at the family reunion you couldn’t remember because the film had been in the camera for so long.

Now the picture gets taken and immediately it’s shared with hundreds of people on some social media site who comment and ohhh and ahhh over how big the kids are and how cute they are.  And then it happens, you see that one picture, oh yeah, you know the one, where the proud parent posts the picture of their kid and you scroll down to take a look and almost pee your pants from sheer terror.

There are several reasons I didn’t have children, one clearly being I would have been blessed with an ugly, mean and very unruly child, karma stings sometimes.  The kicker is I would have known my child was a menace, I would not have sugar-coated it.  I saw a picture this week of a young child who frightened me so terribly I had to call someone.  Someone who actually knew this child and would also tell the truth.  I outright asked if we should worry about the other children on the bus or if there were any younger siblings to worry about.    I didn’t dare look into the child’s eyes even in the picture for fear my soul would have been sucked out.  I looked away very quickly.  Some photos are never meant to be shared.

I also saw a few pictures where I would have liked to post a comment along the lines of “are they going to school or a pajama party?” or “did he borrow your pants?” or “what brand of pork chop did you use to comb their hair?”  Kids nowadays I tell ya.  I am still convinced even the 80’s  fads were better than what’s going on now.

I’m glad we didn’t have social media back then, one first day picture and one school picture were humiliating enough for me for the year.  Sometimes we’d even throw in a family picture now and then, that usually happened the day after I cut my own bangs with a Fiskers.

Because I was from a small town there were never a whole bunch of new kids to meet, I didn’t worry about not knowing anyone, nervous about where to sit on the bus or who  to sit with at lunch.  Not until week two or three anyway, that’s about the time the bickering and fighting started within the little clicks.  It would last for a few days and then go away and cycle back again.  Some people wish for those days back, I DO NOT.  I would dare to bet that still happens.

The part that’s different now I noticed is the school supplies.  Now a list is sent to you on what your kid should have on the first day.  A certain kind of pencil, certain types of folders, a particular notebook, etc.  Well, really?  I’m certain my parents did not get a list of stuff we needed and we certainly didn’t have a community pool of stuff that everyone pulled from.  I had to beg, borrow and steal if I forgot to bring a pencil on the first day.  Lots of schools have ‘community supplies’ so everyone has the same things and enough for the entire year.  Sharing?  Who would have thought?

What happened to the Scott Baio or Michael Jackson folders though?  With Mrs. Scott Baio scribbled all over the outside?  Now, I’m not saying I had Scott Baio folders, it was just an example.  I’m sure you know what I’m saying here, there was always some teen idol we were thinking we’d marry some day….or a guy a couple of years older than us.  One of my friends and I always had a crush on a couple of brothers 6 and 7 years older than we were, oh so young and naïve.  Those were the names you wrote on the inside of your folder because you thought no one would see them there.  Everyone still saw them, kids are nosey…..and ruthless.

I look longingly as I pass schools now, refraining from stopping to tell them that their school years don’t define them and that their whole life happens after that, those are just starter years to get them in the groove.

Now back to snickering at more first day pictures…….

Bottom Teeth

I’ve been more than absent lately!  I promise to be better, life is CRAZY busy right now but I need to get back to writing.

Well, it happened.  He walked in and lo and behold he had bottom teeth in.

In case you missed the top teeth story you can find it here.

This happened a couple of weeks ago and I just didn’t know if I should embarrass myself any more than I already have or not.  Well, it’s not like you guys don’t know a whole lot of embarrassing things about me already so I may as well tell you the second half of the story.

I didn’t have anyone else in the bar when he walked in, which was a good thing because it was one of those ‘oh crap’ moments.  I knew immediately when he said ‘hi’ that his ship….I mean his bottom teeth….had come in.  It was also a dead giveaway when he wasn’t wearing a baseball cap.  I was thankful no one else was going to see this.

I poured his drink and proceeded to lean on the cooler and chit chat…….A LOT.  I mean, honestly, I couldn’t even help myself.  Again, I was staring and staring and staring.  Not only had I never seen him without a cap on I had never seen him with ALL his teeth.

He was very quickly becoming an object of my affection and I could not stop myself.  I heard myself say “So, where have you been?”, “Oh is that where you always hang out?”, “How are the house renovations coming?”  and “I’ll have to come have a drink with you sometime.”.  What??  Did I really say all those things?  I did and he found it very entertaining, I could tell, he could not stop smiling.  Seriously, I have no idea what got into me with this guy.  It’s amazing what teeth do for some people.

Well, after about 20 minutes of making an ass out of myself I actually got control  and had some normal conversations with him.  I’m not sure that helped undo what damage I had done but I sure hope it helped. He left with all parts and pieces in tact and I didn’t even look at his backside when he walked out.

He hasn’t been back since.  NOT a good sign.

The Joys of Bartending VII

It’s amazing the people they let on the golf course.  Saturday four guys walked into the bar after a golf tournament.  Now, something tells me that these four really shouldn’t have been on the golf course, not in their condition anyway.  But I do believe the golf course is who served them to the condition they were in.  They were dropped off by a sober cab and were being picked up by a sober cab, thank goodness.  They were actually pretty funny so I started writing down what was being said.  I do have to admit that I couldn’t understand a lot of what they were saying but they sure understood each other.  I’ll share my notes as I wrote them while it was happening.

  • One’s got the giggles and one’s speaking jibberish and they completely understand each other.
  • “Where we going now, some kind of internet” as one of the other guys was changing the channel on the TV.
  • “There’s two things I know and that’s not one of them.”
  • One attempting to use his flip phone, holding it upside down and pushing buttons asking why he couldn’t hear anything.
  • “$10 if you slap my brother, $20 if you draw blood”
  • “I remember seeing Van Halen for $7.50.  Man that was a good time, I think.”
  • “I think I’ve got pink eye.”  I asked him “Do you know what causes pink eye?”, he said no so I told him, “It can be caused by feces.”  So then he said “Maybe it’s hepatitis”.
  • “Tell me this isn’t a good song and I’ll never be your friend again.”
  • “It’s not devil music, it’s aggressive.”
  • “While golfing today I forgot the word fore so when I hit it toward the people in front of us I kept yelling OY really loud.  They didn’t get it and were mad.  We laughed about OY for several holes”.
  • They’re now walking around yelling “OY” and bending over laughing hysterically.
  • One snuck out to get into a sober ride.  He must have finally figured out how to work his phone.  I couldn’t understand a thing that was coming out of his mouth but apparently the driver understood enough to know where to come and get him.
  • Most of the time they were all talking at the same time so it was tough to decipher who was saying what or what was being said.  They’re having the best time though so that’s all that matters.
  • A girl in an inappropriate white shirt has shown up to the party and seems to be hoping to go home with one of them.  By inappropriate I mean, half mesh and strapless.  The bottom half is mesh which shows her thong underwear bunched up above the waist band of her pants but below her butt crack.  So very classy.  I think she just came from Wal-Mart.
  • Inappropriate girl has made it very clear to two guys that she will be waiting in the parking lot for them so they can go to the next bar with her.  Ummm, they’re not wanting any part of that and are planning their escape route.
  • Inappropriate girl thought the side window was the door, tripped over a step and face planted on the floor.  That’s not good.  For a minute I thought she knocked herself out, nope, she’s up and out.
  • Oh dear, inappropriate girl left with one of the guy’s phone.  This isn’t good, he’s mad, very mad.  He just went next door with a golf club.  Wonder if I should warn them he’s on his way.
  • The party ended when one of the daughters came to pick them all up.  They put up a fight but finally went with her as she wasn’t going to take no for an answer.  The walked out in a single file and their heads down.

Well that was sure a night filled with funny.  So glad those things happen while I’m around.


I notice teeth.  Whether people have them, need them, should get them fixed or need a toothbrush.  I notice teeth.

Tuesday at the bar while I was working a new set of teeth walked in.  And I mean a new set of teeth, fresh from the carving station and they were attached to one of my regulars.  Now, he hasn’t been in on my shift for a few weeks but I know he did NOT have that set of choppers last time I saw him.  They were white and shiny, brand spanking new, I don’t even think they’d seen a glass of Efferdent yet.

I’m never sure what to say in this situation.  Do you act like you don’t notice them?  Do you  say “nice teeth”?  “I like the teeth.”  Where’d you get them”?  Or, do you say nothing and just stare?  Well, I chose none of the above.   I said “Hi, good to see you, you’re looking good.”  Honestly, this guy hasn’t looked good since he was a junior in high school in 1977 and even then it may have been iffy.  But I was at a loss for the right words so I improvised, very poorly.  Plus, I could not stop looking at him.

My compliment and my staring apparently appealed to him as he was grinning like the chubby kid at an all day buffet.  You would think I would have stopped staring at that point, nope, not one bit.  There is something definitely wrong with me.  I should probably mention at this point it was just his top teeth that were new, his bottom ones were still MIA.  I did not care, I couldn’t get over how different he looked, and by different I mean nice looking… a bad boy, used leather, rode hard, lots older than me sort of way.

Yeah, I know, I’m crazy, he still didn’t have his bottom teeth!!!  The more I stared and saw his laugh lines and his smile lines around his mouth that was no longer sucked into his head, the more I was really attracted to this guy.  I need to mention again that he still didn’t have any bottom teeth!!  I even caught myself flirting with him.  Now, I really should reiterate that I flirt with most everyone when I bartend, it’s part of the gig but I think I was really going out of my way on this one.  I kept reigning myself in to just talk about what he’s been up to since I’ve seen him last because it had been so long.  At one point I even had to go and sit across the bar just so I would stop rambling.

He stayed for three drinks and he never stays for three drinks!!  I forced myself to stay away from him so I would stop staring, it was obvious he had noticed me noticing him.  I’m sure he just thought it was amusing as there’s no way he was attracted to me.  Honestly, I’m not really attracted to him either, it was just one of those days and one of those things that caught me off guard and messed with my senses.  What a fiasco.  He finally left, grinning from ear to ear all the way to the door.  Things were so bad I even checked the rest of him out on his way out.

I shared this story with one of the other bartenders and she said “oh, he used to be very good looking”.  Great, just great.  I hope next week he doesn’t come in with new bottom teeth, if that happens I cannot be held responsible for my actions.


There is a time and a place for men’s speedos.  The time is during vacations and the place is a beach in the tropics.  Now, on your back deck sun tanning could be a possible place for one as well but it needs to be discreet, no need to be roaming around the yard flaunting your banana hammock.

Friday a coworker and I spotted a speedo mowing his lawn.  It was crazy, right there staring at us as we drove by.  The coworker grabbed his phone and not so discreetly took a picture of him.  The man was old, and I mean old.  White hair, white beard and sagging skin that has seen so much sun it looked like a piece of worn shoe leather.   The speedo was green and tight.  Nothing left to the imagination.  It was a ridiculous sight really.

The disturbing part of this is he lives across the street from an elementary school.  I mean, isn’t that against some law?  I hope he’s not doing that while school is in session, although there were kids on the playground the day we spotted him.  I could only imagine mothers telling there children to look away as they stared at him.   I know some neighbors of his and she said she was thinking about calling the police, I didn’t think that was such a great idea as I’m pretty sure the police wouldn’t do anything about.  Can you imagine that 911 call?

Immediately after we spotted him I called a friend of mine and said “um, your boyfriend is out mowing his lawn in a speedo, I think you should tell him to stop doing that, he’s scaring the children on the playground”.  She replied with “We broke up last week, are you across from my son’s school?  I know exactly who you’re talking about! Is he wearing the powder blue one today?”  I said “yes, that’s where I’m at and no, he has a green one on today. ”  She started laughing and said, “Oh he must have bought a three pack, I’ve seen him in powder blue and red”.  Seems others have noticed him as well.

The Joys of Bartending VI

Sometimes so many things happen that I have a tough time deciding exactly what to write about.  I will attempt to share some highlights with you.  We could probably call some of them lowlights.

The other night a woman was on a roll with some stories and there I was looking around for a way to record or write down everything she was saying.  I thought it would be sort of rude if I would have said “hold that thought, I’ve got to write this down”, so I sat back and attempted to file away all the crazy stuff that she was saying.  I doubt I can remember it all but here’s a few things:

“It’s okay that I smoke and my kids don’t know about it, right?  I mean, I’ve never actually had weed in front of them….well, one time I had a quarter pound of it duct taped under my bed….but they didn’t know it was there so I think that’s okay, plus, it never happened again.”

“I could move on the res with my cousins I suppose but I couldn’t go without a couple of potato guns, I mean, a tennis ball won’t kill anyone, right?  I’m related to them all but that doesn’t mean I have to like them.”

“I’m having a shot, I don’t care what kind of medication I’m on.  If I wake up in the morning and don’t know where I’m at then I guess that’s what happens but I really need a shot right now.”

“It’s really weird talking to my mom at this age.  It’s like we’re the same age or something.”

Her questions were completely rhetorical because she certainly didn’t want any answers from me so I just smiled and nodded as any good bartender would do.  I could have also typed that as one long sentence because she barely took a breath between any of it.

I did manage to make notes on a woman that was in one Saturday afternoon who was talking about her wedding…..

“We’re going to get married here and you’re going to be my bartender.  I’ll tell everyone no less than $5 tips at a time because that’s how I roll.  I’m paying for the kegs and the food.  My girls will do the food….hams and turkeys….good food.  We’re fat girls, we like to eat, none of this skinny girl shit.  His sisters are skinny bitches.”

I then asked her when the wedding would take place…..her answer……”whenever he asks me, in the next month or two.”  She then proceeded to play their wedding music over and over again on the jukebox.  I was privy to some sort of dance I would have rather not witnessed.

After the dancing he told her he wanted to play pool.  She said “I can’t play pool, you know I can’t play pool because I have a glass eye.”  Upon saying that she promptly poked herself in her glass eye.  Thank goodness he didn’t ask her to brush her teeth, she was a little light in the tooth department and I would have hated if she stuck her finger anywhere to point that out.

One of my regulars was in a few Saturdays ago and he had a styrofoam coffee cup on the bar.  I said hi when I walked by and he said “hey, do you want to see my rats?”  I promptly said “NO”.  He had a pile of dead baby rats in the cup that he had found in a refrigerator somewhere.  All I could do was shake my head and force myself not to look in the cup.  A little later he said “move away with me to Colorado and we’ll go down the river together”.  I said “one of us won’t make it to the end of the river alive”.  He knew exactly what I meant and he still brings it up to this day.

Very recently a few friends came in for a couple of drinks and a visit.  During their visit two of my other friends showed up and one had clearly indulged in several adult beverages, this particular lady is a hugger on a regular day and a super hugger on a day with beverages.  I introduced everyone and conversations flowed easily.

When the hugger was leaving she promptly said “nice to meet you and I’m a hugger so no handshakes”.  I immediately had to turn away from the scene as one of my friends is clearly not a hugger but he indulged.  This woman is not only a hugger but she’s a long hugger.  The whole scene was pretty hilarious.  I’m sure you’ve seen it before….the hugger and the stiff as a board non-hugger in an embrace.  On her way to the door she announced she was going to do the Irish jig.  She did.  Her sober significant other did not laugh near as hard as the rest of us did.

Closing up at 2:00 AM I heard a horrible noise coming from the parking lot.  I looked out the window and saw two women standing outside of what was left of their car.  One end of the back bumper was hanging on by a thread and the other end was dragging on the ground.  I assumed that was the cause of the noise.  I noticed the back window was plastic and duct taped on and every piece of trim was missing on the car.  As I walked outside I noticed the front bumper was also dragging on the ground.  They were screaming at each other and at some people who had gathered around the scene.  I have no idea what they were saying because I could only understand a few curse words.  After a couple of minutes they got in the car and drove away.  Yes, they drove away, sparks flying and earth shattering noises following behind.  I have no idea how far they made it because I chose to drive the other way.

A couple weeks ago, a very intoxicated woman was at the bar for several hours.  She was well-behaved for the most part and at one point she asked if I had any contact solution, which I did.  She was having trouble with her contact (I don’t think it was the contact myself but hey) and wanted to soak it for a bit.  I put it in a plastic cup to soak and she went back to gambling.  About two hours later she was yelling and swearing so I asked her what the problem was.  She said “I lost my contact!”  I said “you were supposed to leave it in the cup”.  She said “I did but I wanted to put it back in my eye”.  We looked and looked for the contact and then looked some more, I even broke out the flashlight and was crawling on the floor.  I finally gave up and said “it’s gone, I have no idea what happened to it”.

After about three more hours she yelled “I found it!”  I went over to her and she had the top of a beer can in her hand, squinting at it with her ‘good eye’.  I said “you can’t put that in your eye, it’s a beer can top”.  She had a shocked look on her face and asked “are you sure?”  Well, I wasn’t about to state the obvious that I hadn’t put in an eight hour shift of drinking so I said “I’m sure”.  She looked down at the floor and said “oh, but there it is”.  She bent over and picked something up from in front of the chair next to her and sure enough, it was her contact.  I took it from her, slathered it with contact solution for a few minutes, looked at her and said “can I put it in for you?”  She pried open her eye so I put it in.  She blinked once, hugged me and said “I can see better out of this one than my other one now!”.  Enough said, I went back to work shaking my head and she sat down to go back to gambling.

This morning a guy came in and ordered a tap beer.  I said “what’s going on today?” because it was 10:00 AM, he’s not one of the regulars and he was having a beer so I figured something was up.  He said “I called in sick for the first time in three years today because I’m hungover”.  I said “oh no, that’s not good”.  He replied with “well, I actually went to work but decided to leave after I blew a .12 in my buddies car breathalyzer”.  Then he added “the strip club was just too much for me last night”.  I didn’t ask any more questions because I was afraid of the answer.  I really wanted to say “by all means, why not start drinking again” but it was too early to have that conversation.

Tonight a woman said “two years ago I planned my wedding for September of 2013 and now I have a wedding planned and no boyfriend”.  I was dumb and said “what happened to him?”  She said “oh, there never was one, I just thought I’d have one by now and I have the date, the place and the flowers, what am I going to do?”  I stared at her for a minute and said “shoot and holler shit”.  I couldn’t think of anything else to say.  She tried to bring up the subject several more times and I completely ignored her.  I am not qualified to counsel her on that particular issue.

Happy drinking!