I show up at the bar last night expecting it to be just a normal night: Checking ID's, taking cover, listening to the music, and dealing with the occasional weirdo. When I got there, the place was already half full...a sign that people are starting to wise up and show up before 8:00 to avoid paying the cover. I set up my work station, which consists of a padded barstool and an ashtray, by the front door. I put the cover on the shuffleboard table, like I normally do. Immediately after that, things took a turn for the surreal.
People who were already in the bar started coming up and paying cover. I tried to explain to them that they were grandfathered in and didn't have to pay the cover, but they did anyway. Adn it wasn't just the normal three bucks. People were handing me fives and telling me to keep the change. I began to look around, with the gut feeling I was being filmed and Rod Serling was somewhere narrating this moment of my life.
The band started to bring in their equipment. When I saw the bass player haul in a sound board that was bigger than most of the cars I've driven, I knew I was in for a really loud night. And loud, it certainly was. You could've been in a sensory deprivation tank a mile away and still hear it. In fact, I'm still hearing it echo around in my skull.
I didn't encounter the really strange people until around 10:30. The place was already packed my then, and people were stuffed in that little space next to me by the front door. The space along the wall next to me was prime real estate, and people were trying to wedge themselves into there, not really knowing or caring that they were pinning me into the corner. I had to shove a little bit to make some room for me to do my job, you know, without being elbowed in the forehead by some guy drinking his Pabst Blue Ribbon. That guy's reaction was priceless. I had taken his cover ten minutes prior, and still, after I told him to move, he said, "What, do you think you work here, or something?"
Before I could point out the stupidity of that question, a lady came to the door holding two huge Rubic's cubes made out of cardboard. There was a 80's themed charity event down the street and she wanted to see if anyone wanted to buy the Rubic's cubes. No one in the bar wanted them, but I offered to take them off her hands, simply by virtue of the fact that this was the single weirdest thing anyone has ever tried to sell me "for a good cause". I mean, this tops the "Earth Day" cotton/polyester blend t-shirt I bought from a street vendor about ten years ago, or the hemp shorts I bought to benefit marijuana legalization with the "stash pocket that, when full, sticks out about a half an inch below the bottom of the shorts.
About an hour later, a woman came in with another couple to find their friends in the bar. The woman was short, blonde and spoke with an Austrailian accent. She stood close to me, trying to call her friends on her cell phone. I was sitting on my barstool with my feet up on the top rungs, which I only say that because after a moment or two, she decided to wedge herself between my legs for warmth while she made her phone call. A couple more people came into the bar, and I managed to take their cover charge witha short Australian woman wedged in my crotch. She left a message on her friend's voice mail, stating her location as being "At Arnie's, between the door guy's thighs.", then turned to face me, telling me, "You're not doing a very good job of keeping me warm." grabbing my arms and throwing them around her waist while she made another phone call.
She managed to get someone on the phone and found out that her friends were at Tsumani, not Arnie's. She thanked me for the warmth, gave me a hug and a kiss and left.
The last hour of my shift was spent attempting to answer people's questions while sitting in front of an amplifier that was blaring out the blues. Here's an idea, people: if you're in a bar, needing to ask someone a question, and they've been sitting in front of an amplifier for four hours...Don't use your indoor voice! And please, don't try to joke around with me, because A) I'm not in the mood, B) your jokes are NOT that original, and C) I could easily have the bartenders cut you off for the night.
I got home just after 2:00, and fell fast asleep, which was pretty easy because the loud music killed my hearing and the ringing in my ears lulled me to sleep. The Rubic's cubes are still out in the truck, and I've got work to do at the office today, not to mention I got laundry. So much for a lazy Sunday.
