And we pulled it off without ANY green beer!

A couple of months ago, I was asked to help out at Arnie's Bar on St. Patrick's Day. Seeing as it is my favorite bar, and I would do anything ot help out (and get free beer), I accepted their offer.

Urban Tulsa Weekly, our local (chuckle) entertainment newspaper, had royally screwed Arnie's. First and foremost, they always put their ad right in with the strip clubs and adult novelty stores, and in the back of the paper near the crosswords and classifieds. That was nothing new...they've been doing that for months despite anyone's protests. However, this St. Pat's is the 50th anniversary at Arnie's. Kind of a big deal here, folks! Not to mention the fact tha St. Pats is a pretty big deal no matter where you go. So, what was their brilliant idea over at Urban Tulsa Weekly? Do a cover story on POKER! Plus, the only mention of Arnie's is a small caption under a photo, barely even a paragraph, that mentions, "The green beer will be a-flowin'"

GREEN FUCKING BEER?!? I'm sorry, but green beer is only for the fraudulent one-day-a-year Irish wannabe's. Now, I know that's pretty bold coming from a German guy from Arkansas, but I have immersed myself at Arnie's to the point that I have been adpoted by the tribe. I know what the fuck I'm talking about. The Irish that I know drink whisky, Harp or Gunness. Drinkin Green beer on St. Pat's is like wearing a propeller hat during Channukah. It's disrespectful and only makes you look like a fucking idiot.

So, I call for the citizens of Tulsa, and surrounding areas, to just stop reading Urban Tulsa altogether. Not just because of this little blunder, but because it sucks, period. Face it, here's nothing enlightening about any of the local writing that goes into that rag. The political commentary is lame, right-wing hot air that even my conservative friends find obtuse, Their movie critic will take five paragraphs describing the fucking popcorn and only talk about the movie in two sentences. Anything of any value in Urban Tulsa, like Life in Hell, News of the Weird, and Free Will Astrology (although that's a bit of a stretch), are all available online anyway, so you can still get your fix without having to turn to Urban Tulsa Weakly.

Interesting side note: In this week's The SPOT, the friday entertainment section in the Tulsa World. where Arnie's doesn't even advertise, did a brilliant article about Arnie's, and even put it on the fucking cover!

But I digress

Thursday night was the usual thing, Arnie's for a a few pint, listen to the band, go home slightly toasty. I talked to Chris and Joann, the owners, about what I needed to do on St. Pat's, and I was asked if I'd like to work the door on a regular basis. Boy, WOULD I! For a guy like me who loves to people-watch, working the door at a bar is like a dream. You get it all, the friendly people, the weird people, (naturally) the drunk people...not to mention that you never know what's gonna happen!

The job itself is easy. Just stand next to the door, take three dollars from everyone who comes in and check their IDs. I love the look on older poeple's faces when i ask for ID. Women tend to be flattered for the most part, but I have to explain that if your license is expried, it's the same as if you are underage. In my few times working the door, I've only come across two guys with expired licenses, and they left without any problems. the thing that gets me is the number of people who show up alone, not in a cab, with suspended licenses. I can't deny them access, but I'm left to wonder how they got here and how they're getting home.

Anyway, last night was St. Patrick's Day, and like I said it was the 50th anniversary at Arnie's, so it was fucking HUGE!. I showed up around 5:30, figuring I'd hang out a little until they needed me in the office to help with the money. They were already to capacity inside the bar when I showed up, and the tent area outside was pretty crowded. So, needless to say, I had to hit the ground running. I found Joann, and she took me into the office and gave me the rundouwn of the money count. I settled into the office and got to work.

five bars were set up, and each had its own cash drop and tip count. In essence, my job was to count out $25 in singles over and over again. Every couple minutes, someone, beit one of the bars or one of the entrance gates needed singles. About halfway through the night, we were running out. We had to send a couple guys out to get more from other bars and restaurants, but the saving grace was one of the local casinos. We were down to one last bundel of singles when we got these huge stacks from the casino. The trouble now was, that there was one stack of mint condition and one of well-worn bills which needed to be shuffled so that they wouldn't stick together. Time consumign to say the least, but it was a bit tense because we had to get it back out to the bars right away.

I got a couple of small breaks, and I went outside and talked to my friends, had a couple of beers and tried to condense as much St. Patrick's Day partying into that short time. I completely missed Cairde Na Gael (my friends' band), and I got to catch a little bit of the headliner, Larkin. Larkin hadn't played in several months, due to Karen (the fiddle player) being pregnant. Her timing with the pregnancy, though not exactly intentional, was perfect. The baby was born in January, a beautiful little gril named Alaexandra, and that allowed for their return show to be at Arnie's for St. Pat's. From what I understand, the show went perfectly, excapt for one drunk idiot trying to pull CHad (the lead singer) off the stage at one point.

Being in the office most of the night, I got to hear about almost everything weird that went down. The office was next to the men's room, so I heard all the drunk idiots act like bigger idiots simply because they had to take a piss. If anyone stayed in there too long, they'd start pounding on or kicking the door. Joann yelled at one of them to stop doing that, to which he replied, "Hey, relax, you could just buy another door at Home Depot."

That's what really cracked me up. The weird-assed logic that drunk guys come up with. Sure they could always buy a new door, but that doesn't men the old one had to be destroyed just because you had to pee! I heard guys saying, "Let me in, I'll piss in the sink!" or better yet, "I'll piss in the trash can!" I just wonder if these assholes knew that there were about thirty porta-potties outside.

In the office, I had a walkie-talkie to communicate with everyone at the bars, the gates, the security personnel, etc. I got to hear about all of the fights, the drunks passing out, you name it. Also, the phone and the answering machine were in the office with me, but I was too busy to ever answer it. Almost everyone that called hung up after the message, telling them which bands were playing at what times, etc. However, there was one message I heard that kinda broke my heart, while at the same time made me want to laugh my ass off. A lady left a message pleading to talk to a bartender or someone about finding her husband, who she said was drunk off his ass inside and she couldn't come in to get him because she was underage.

For about five seconds, I wanted to help. I can't imagine what it'd be like to not only have a five-alarm hangover, but be in the doghouse with the wife. But then I realized that there were about a thousand people out there, all of them matching her description of her husband: Drunk off his ass. Every available worker and volunteer was up to his/her neck in their work, and there was no way to ever find this one guy out of the crowd. Then the cynical gear kicked in and I almost called the lady back to tell her to call a pet store instead...so she could buy a tighter leash. But then, a fresh round of tip money came in and I had to get back to work.

Fortunately for the security guys, it started to rain heavier right after last call, so it was a lot easier for them to get everyone out at closing time. In the end, I think Arnie's Bar had a really kick-ass St. Patrick's Day, and I was glad to be a part of it.