I know some math, but not scientist or engineer math. I can add. And if you add all the jobs I have had it is a ton. Metric or otherwise. If you count all the jobs I’ve done for the construction companies I have worked for and when I had my own construction business that is a lot of adding. I need a calculator for that addition. Or I could use chisanbop.
If I were not in construction, I would do something else. Ideally, I would write for a living. Or maybe become a Professional bass fisherman. Or I could write about fishing. RIIIGHT. Fishing is almost as boring as golf, to watch. Reading about fishing is a complete waste of time, but reading about golf, well, that is like three wastes of time plus ∏ r². (Seriously, Microsoft that is the best pi you can come up with? LAME-O)
Maybe I would go back to tending bar. Everyone should tend bar at least one month of their life. (One month is arbitrary, just pulled that one out of my arse. I will stick with it). It teaches you a lot about your fellow humans. It is a joy and a pain. It is more than a job it is an adventure. I think that the Army stole that slogan from BEADS. (Bartenders Education Academy for Drink Slingers)
So I was thinking about how great it was to be a bartender. I love revisionist history. Time has a way of making even the worst things seem better. I like to call that phenomenon THE HAPPY TIME MACHINE. I know that most days I would show up and talk about how much I hated the job, but looking back now thru THE HAPPY TIME MACHINE, I think back fondly of my time as a drink slinger.
However, I was never a “Cocktail” (the movie) type bartender, I lacked the manual dexterity to flip the bottles. And a drop, well, that’s alcohol abuse. Nor was I a “Coyote Ugly” bartender. I did not have the boobs or hips. Now I probably have the boobs. Hairy man boobs. Jus’ sayin’.
I was a shot and a pop and draft beer kind of bartender. A drink slinger… You know “quick with a joke and to light up your smoke” (Piano Man by Billy Joel) I know how to make a few drinks still to this day, but not many. I have fewer brain cells or something like that. I can still mix a mean Crown and Coke.
And I can always pop a top on a can or even a bottle of beer. Although my dentist has requested that I stop using my teeth to open a bottle, which I can probably still do, but why? Oh you know why…. It is cool. And tough. And stupid, but mostly cool…and tough… And I still can drink with the best of them.
Just a hint: when you order a drink and do not call your liquor, you get well liquor. And in that case it is “well, it’s whatever we got” (thanks CB) It is easy to call for a call liquor, as they usually have every type of liquor on display if you can read, you can *call* your drink. It is a shrewd marketing approach by the booze merchants, to get you to spend more on BETTER booze so they display them for all to see…I hate well liquor drinks, and the cost for a premium (higher on the shelf on the back of the bar and the liquor aisle) over a call is usually only $.50.
The bar crowd is always interesting. It is an interesting dynamic interaction of first daters, old drunkards, the social drinkers, and the teetotalers all in the same space at the same time, drinking or not drinking. There was rarely a dull moment. In the brief dull moments you could always run back to puff down a quickie. Or cause a bit of pandemonium by any number of comical ruses.
My favorite comical ruse was the *plastic wrapped water glass*. I did not learn this in the bar, I learned it at Farrell’s Ice cream Parlor, or Country Kitchen, I really do not remember. It works best with water tinted by grenadine.
1. Take a water glass.
2. Fill half full with water
3. Add a couple drops of grenadine
4. Cover the glass TIGHTLY with plastic wrap
5. Hold glass to conceal plastic wrap
6. Get someone’s attention
7. *Splash some one with it*
8. Be prepared for the fireworks and laughter!!
All comical relief aside, I always loved it when the real stud guys that would come in a try to impress the little foxy momma on their sleeve by ordering something like a Pink Squirrel. Come on, idiot, seriously? A pink squirrel? It has ice-cream in it. And amoretto. It is froofy. It is not macho. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Hell, I really have no idea what is in a Pink squirrel. But Seriously? It sounds like a froofy drink. (I did not want to use my blog search engine on this drink for fear of total malfunction of the inter web search thingy that powers it)
I should have just mixed up a Canadian Club and water with a splash of grenadine and said, “Here’s your Pink Squirrel.” He probably would not have known the difference. If he did say something I could have told him, “That’s how we roll, brother. That is a Pink Squirrel at THIS bar!”
However, I do know a Pink Squirrel is not the kind of drink that I would order to impress a lady. If it were me, and everyone knows that I can really impress the ladies, I would order A Jack Daniels boilermaker. If not that then maybe a Beefeaters gin or Grey Goose vodka martini, dirty, shaken not stirred with two olives and a pickle. (gotta get your veggies). Possibly. Margarita with salt and double lime wedges, (more veggies)on the rocks, probably. Oh, and no f-ing blue motorcycles either. And just a hint…Sex On The Beach is a bit too forward for a first date. The drink, I mean.
It’s always fun to get in a few shots of Sambuca, while yelling *SAMBUCA* just before you swallow!! http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sambuca (I found this link on the search engine on the side bar of my blog…that makes me tres cool) It is anise flavored. I like to tell people it is anus flavored…it always makes me laugh…out loud…matter of fact I just chortled while I was writing this. If you do this, there is not a problem when they say it tastes like sh..T……….. I think Jägermeister http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/J%C3%A4germeister
is the new Sambuca…
If there is a special on Long Island Iced Tea, (LIIT) (gin, vodka, tequila, and rum, topped with coke to give it color) it will not have premium liquor in it and most times it will be watered down with coke and have quick pour shots, instead of the usual 1 oz, or 1 ½ oz per booze. That being said, it will still get you drunk… That being said, it will still get you drunk. Oops one too many LIIT…
Just for the sake of people watching you should go to work as a bartender. Hells Yeah!!! And the second hand smoke was groovy, when you were really jones-ing for a square. At least way back before the government stepped on smokers rights because a bunch of namby-pamby non-smokers whined like little kids about all that second-hand smoke. Now you do not have to worry about the *bar smell* because the government has taken care of you. Just like those *death camps* that will come about in the *healthcare revolution* .
Actually, secondhand smoke is not as deadly as Radon, an odorless gas that occurs naturally and from what I hear rather abundantly. However, there is little that whining to your elected officials can do about that. Well, they can do something about it, but it will only make the situation worse. Hey, while we are at it why not ban second hand breathing. Yeah, I know that bad breath probably does not cause cancer, but it is unpleasant and definitely not odorless. Especially over served booze breath…yucky…
Digression aside, the nights never ended at 10 pm. You always got a second wind, just in time for last call at the other bar. Looking back in THE HAPPY TIME MACHINE bartending was a great way to make some cash to go spend at the next bar (obviously open later) on the way home. Mixing all those drinks in that smoky environment makes you VERY thirsty. VERY!! Come to think of it, I have probably had as many a beer, wine, or mixed beverages as I have had jobs. Yup, a metric ton of beer, wine and spirits.
Just another day in paradise