Working for the weekend

I really needed a night like tonight. Tonight, Larkin was playing and I was working the door. Given the frustrations I experienced the last time I worked the door for them, I was expecting complete chaos yet again. However, the whole night was rather uneventful as far as frustrations go. I only had to tell one bum to fuck off, nobody tried to sneak out of the bar with a beer, and I only had to deal with three irate customers (and that was over in less than a minute), and everybody else was on their best behavior.

The only thing is, I wasn't watching the clock and switched to cokes a little late...so it's two o'clock and I'm completely wired.

Last night, I had to work the door as well, and although I had to deal with fewer people the hits just kept on coming. The three people I caught sneaking drinks out of the bar each gave me the same excuse: that they were from out of town, and where they're from, they can take drinks outside. Well, it that's true, why did they feel the need to hide the beers from me as they walked out?

Closing time was another matter. Nobody wanted to leave, even though the lights were turned on full blast, barstools were being put up on the tables, and "Hit the Road, Jack", "Closing Time" and "Danke Shoen" were playing in the speakers. Most of those people were friends of the bartenders, which I didn't mind, but that was no reason for them to smart off to me as I was reminding them that the bar was closing, and that they needed to tab out, drink up and go the fuck home. Apparently, I need to work on my "angry face" because no one was taking me seriously.

One particular guy was being a total dick about it. As I made my announcement to everyone on the patio, he sat back down and told me he'd get right on that. I knew he was one of the bartender's friends, so I let it go...but not without calling him on how much of a prick he was being. Ten minutes later, I had this exchange with the guy:

PRICK: "Hey, man. I'm sorry about all that back there..." (I love it when these assholes try to get back on my good side) "...I want you to know I meant no disrespect."

ME: "Well, that WAS very disrespectful. Not for nothing, dude, but there are still a lot of people who aren't cool with the bartenders that I'm trying to get the fuck out of here so all of us can go home. They see you sitting there and think that they don't have to leave either."

PRICK: "I'm just trying to say I'm sorry, man."

ME: "And I appreciate that. I'd appreciate it even more if you actually meant it, instead of just trying to smooth it over with the guy who was ready to throw your ass out on the sidewalk for being a dick."

PRICK: "Do you know how much money I spent at this bar every week?"

ME: "What, like we have some sort of frequent shopper bonus program here?"

PRICK: "I spend more money in this bar than practically anyone else. What do you say to that?"

ME: "That you might need some counseling for alcoholism?"

PRICK: "Look, I know [the owners], and if they were here, they'd be throwing YOUR ass out right now."

ME: "I work here. The owners trust me to do my job. You only drink here, and judging from that Miller Lite in your hand, you're not exactly shilling out for the good stuff, are you now? Look, It's not like I give a rat's ass who you know or how much you spend here, just don't be such a dick about it when I'm just trying to get everybody else out of here, got it?"

PRICK: "Whatever."

Tonight, he was back at the bar and he apologized yet again when he left. I later found out that he does spend a considerable amount of money at the bar...when he actually remembers to PAY his tab. I told one of the owners about the incident and she just rolled her eyes about the whole thing. Claiming to be the most frequent customer at any bar is like boasting the world's record for eating the most raw chicken. Sure, people will remember you for it, but mostly because they wonder why the hell you would brag about it.

I tried to sleep in a bit, but I had to go do laundry and go do some work at the office for a couple hours. I thought I could grab a short nap before I had to meet my friends for dinner, but instead got a call from my buddy Scott and the chances for a little bit of rest greatly diminished with each minute of talking to him. I kinda got into my diatribe about the no dating/sex vow, and I kept having to explain myself over and over again. I finally got the point through to him, and I managed to put it in simple terms for anyone who might ask about it in the future:

Everything I need to make myself a complete person again is right here in front of me. The only problem is that it's all in one giant pile. I can't tell what is what until I go through it all. I need to sort it all out and find a place for all of this shit before I can go outside and play.