The Joys of Bartending VIII

There’s been some interesting things while bartending lately so I’ll give you a few bullet points of the highlights…..or lowlights, however you prefer to look at it. They’re highlights to me.

We got a complaint a couple weeks ago that a guy was being really weird to a group of girls out for a bachelorette party. He was saying things like “do you need me to protect you?”, “are you okay, I’m in the military and can save you”. Eventually he got to be a little too much so I told him he had to pay his tab and leave. As I went to run his tab, I got busy so asked my bartending partner to run his credit card because I asked him to leave. When she went to give him his card back he wanted to know her employee ID number because he was going to call the Department of Defense on us. I really hope the Department of Defense is working on more important things than bartenders who keep their bars clear of riff raff.

The same night the Department of Defense situation happened we had a couple using the women’s restroom for something other than what it’s intended for. The couple had just met about 30 minutes prior to last call and there must have been a sense of urgency and the women’s restroom was the place of choice to take care of said urgency. My bartending partner walked in to use the facilities and had to tell them to put their pants on and get out. I’m glad it wasn’t me that discovered them, I probably would have messed with them a bit before telling them to get out but that’s just me.

At 6:00 PM recently we had to ask a couple to not return to the bar because the wife was performing…..let’s call them…..indecent acts, in the bar. Immediately when they walked in we knew something was going to happen. They were clearly hopped up on something not so legal but well behaved…at first. After one drink, brandy neat, she started talking to one of the regulars, the bar was fairly empty so all eyes were on her when she got up to talk to a guy sitting at a table. It wasn’t long before she turned around and pulled down her pants. It was truly like attending a sporting event, first a hush goes over the crowd and then a collective ‘ohhhh’ and even some added ‘my god’ or ‘lord’ at the end of the ‘ohhhh’. So as any good bartenders would do, we continued to watch her antics with the rest of the crowd and listened to their whispers until we got up the nerve to approach her. The kicker to the mooning is that she never really pulled up her pants all the way so we all had a front row seat to observe the pink lace thong she was wearing and one bare cheek. It didn’t take long for the guy at the table to pack up and leave and oddly the couple followed him to the parking lot. I don’t even want to speculate about why but an employee of the bar went out and told them they weren’t welcome back in the bar.

I had a regular patron go into a coughing fit one day. He’s probably in his late sixties and was really sounding bad. I looked at the few people that were in the bar, looked at him and said “Don’t you dare die on my watch, if you do I’m going to drag you into the men’s bathroom and pretend I didn’t notice you.” The laughing didn’t help his cough at all but he survived thank goodness.

A few weeks ago, I once again wore a pair of jeans to work that I obviously shouldn’t have. Early in the shift as I was bending over to put cases of beer on the dolly I felt the release of pressure at my left back pocket. I knew it was bad, it had to be. I went back out to the bar and immediately two of the regulars knew something was up because my eyes were watering from the laughing and the embarrassment. I said “well, I have a situation and you need to tell me how bad it is”. I turned around and pulled up my shirt to show them and they immediately doubled over laughing. Thank goodness they were the only two sitting at the bar. After a few minutes of uncontrollable laughter they both said “It’s bad, you have to find a new pair of pants.” I had to leave my bartending partner on her own and hurry home to change my pants. I made record time and when I came back one of the two at the bar said “Did you get your pants changed?” I said “Yup, I’m good to go.” He looked at me, looked down, looked at me again and said “Then you might want to pull up your zipper.” That caused another bought of uncontrollable laughter, at my expense, which I’m okay with.

A guy came in while I was working and was a talker. After rambling on for a few minutes he said “What’s your name?” I said “Susan”. He said “Nice to meet you, I’m Joe.” As I look over at one of my regulars he mouths “Susan?” to me. I just smiled and went about my business. Joe eventually left and my regular says “What the hell are you telling him your name is Susan for?” I said “When I don’t want someone to know my real name I’m Susan.” He starts laughing and said, “Someone asked the bartender the other day when Susan worked and she said “Oh we don’t have a Susan here”, now I get what’s happening, that’s funny.” I just smiled, shrugged and walked away.

Celine Saw Her Butt

This is another one of those stories that I hesitate to write because I’m not sure I can do it justice but I was reminded of it again recently so I will give it a whirl.

Three of us were in Las Vegas for work.  We were only there for a few busy days so we wanted to make the most of our down time.  We were staying at the Stratosphere and a bit off the beaten path but we figured walking would do us good.  We made plans to meet for dinner one night and then we were going to walk the strip to see what trouble we could find.

Dinner went well and we started our trek down the strip when Maggie had a blow-out in one of her more than worn walking shoes.  It was pointless to attempt to continue our walk because she was dragging a leg and the other two of us were laughing.  We decided to take a cab to Caesars Palace to find a shoe store.

Bingo!  A sporting goods store for a new pair of shoes was easily located.  Jason and I weren’t there to shop so we supported our friend in her quest for a new set of tires.  A lovely young man was helping her with her size eight and a half’s, try this, what about these and can I tie those for you?  He really got into his groove when he realized she had a blow-out, nothing like a sure sale.  He was bending down in front of her to tie her shoe when it happened.

She bent down a little to do something, maybe talk to him, maybe help him tie, I’m not sure.  Rrrrrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiippppppppppppppp.  The sound was not only deafening in the small store but confusing as well.  Which type of new blow-out was this?  Gas or pants?  From our vantage point, Jason and I could clearly see, and I mean CLEARLY see, that it was a complete denim failure in the cheek area and continuing down the leg.  The young man helping her out was not quite so sure of the origin so he immediately looked up with huge eyes, stood up and proceeded to walk away from her.

After the initial shock of the sound and an awkward moment of silence, the laughter began. Not only did the laughter begin but the tears soon followed.  All three of us had tears.  Two of us from laughter, one of us from being embarrassed.  When she started to cry that did not help our situation out AT ALL.  As I was attempting to control myself, Jason crouched and hid in a circular rack of t-shirts to hide.  The rack only hid him, not his uncontrollable laugher.

I did my best to help her get the new tires on so we could get the hell out of the store, I feel as though I failed completely.  I was attempting to hold in my laughter which never works without shoulders shaking, well, my whole body was pretty much convulsing.  I could still hear Jason in the t-shirt rack sniffling and laughing and Maggie’s face was still bright red with tears in her eyes.  Now, I’m not so heartless that I can’t be respectful of someone else’s discomfort but this was the exception, I could not see her point of being upset, other than one of her cheeks was more than peeking out of the back of her pants.  At least she had underwear on.  In turn, I couldn’t control myself and Jason was doing nothing to help me out.

We paid the lovely young man who still wasn’t sure what exactly had happened (I’m sure he realized once we walked out the door and he saw her pants, or lack thereof), gathered Jason out of the rack of t-shirts and headed out the door.  What do we do now?  I offered to change shirts with her, mine may have been a little longer.  I should probably state here that longer really wasn’t going to help much, the rip was well beyond ‘longer’.

Jason and I wanted to check out the casino a bit and Maggie wasn’t quite up to it.  We tried to convince her it wasn’t that bad through more laughter and more tears but she didn’t really believe us, I can’t imagine why.  She was going back to our rooms in a cab to change her pants and she really wanted us to go with her.  That wasn’t happening so she was now mad on top of everything else.  We were still laughing more than we should have been.

As we got to the front door of Caesars there was some commotion going on so it was a bit tough to get through the sea of people, once outside we saw why it was like that.  Celine Dion was just arriving.  This did not make Maggie happy because of the severe rip in her pants.  We watched as Celine and her husband drove up, got out of the car and made their way into the casino slowly.  About that time, a cab showed up and the last words we heard Maggie speak before she got in was “great, now Celine Dion saw my ass!!  Our laughter never really stopped that night.

To this day, Jason and I laugh about this incident, if one of us is having a bad day the mere mention of it puts us in a better mood.  Maggie never did meet back up with us that night nor did she answer our phone calls.  Just the other night Jason informed me he thinks that was the hardest he’s ever laughed in public and I agreed.  I told him he was a coward for hiding in the t-shirt rack but we laughed about it for another ten minutes or so.  He completely agrees he was a coward.  The incident has way more longevity than her pants did.