You Are A Bartender, Part VII

[Dear Booze]

At 3:10 A.M., You find yourself in a very nice house. Or, rather, a very nice garage, which is attached to a very nice house. And you are tending bar.

Just a half hour earlier, you were eating tacos in an empty lot, surrounded by strangers. Now you are making drinks for about twenty or thirty other bartenders, waiters, busboys, hostesses, and cooks.

Before leaving Tacos el Unico, Ryan and you both received a text from Ron Sukiewicz - The Sooker. The message simply read “MY HOUSE”. You both knew what it meant.

The Sooker is a colorful 30-year-old character who you both know from the Stardust Room. He’s not a bartender or waiter. As a matter of fact he doesn’t work at all. He’s a trust fund drunk with at least two Bachelors degrees and no desire to put them to use. As far as you know, he’s not really good at anything except throwing parties. And all of his friends are people who either serve him drinks, or people with whom he drinks. But his parties are fun.

The Sooker’s house is a 2,500 square foot mid-century bachelor pad, complete with framed lobby cards for late 50’s and early 60’s movies, a coffee table crafted from the deck of a sail boat, and harvest gold appliances. He’s got a terrific patio with a big pool, and he’s converted his two-car garage into a lounge. The bar is actually an old repurposed upright piano. The place where the keys should be has been turned into a speed well and the part that used to slide open to reveal the strings now opens to reveal a well-stocked supply of booze.

And here you are standing behind the bar mixing drinks.

When you and Ryan showed up, someone honked one of those aerosol air horns and the small crowd cheered. You know the drill. When any bartender shows up, they must tend bar until another bartender shows up. So you started making drinks for anyone who needs something. But, for the most part, you are simply standing around in the garage drinking with the rest of your friends.

You look around and realize that there are at least eight bartenders that are part of the $100 Tip Club.

When you are a bartender, you tend to get to know lots of other bartenders. And you tend to have bartender friends come in to your bar to drink. The unwritten rule is that you never charge them, and they leave you a one hundred dollar bill as a tip. But it’s nothing to get excited over because you will end up leaving that very same one hundred dollar bill for one of them. That bill makes its journey from bar to bar and back again. You often think that each “tipper” should sign the bill, or put a date on it, or at least some sort of mark. But why start now? This tradition dates back to before you were in the business and it will be around long after you are gone.

So you continue making drinks until TomTom shows up. Someone blows the air horn, everyone cheers and you head inside the house to see what’s going on.

[oettinger]

He’s a trust fund drunk with at least two Bachelors degrees and no desire to put them to use

About ten years ago there was guy named Knalle Ralle roaming the streets of my hometown. His name basically means Loaded Ralphy.
Had had a doctor title in chemics and the only use he had for it was to do drugs. And he drank a lot. One sunny afternoon friends of mine picked me up after I finished my shitty job and we went to a local park were all the drunks were hanging out. We talked to him some, and then he mentioned that right now he was supposed to visit his little son (he of course was divorced) but he choose to go out and drink in the park instead.

Were the bar stools old music stools btw?

[Dear Booze]

He’s a trust fund drunk with at least two Bachelors degrees and no desire to put them to use

About ten years ago there was guy named Knalle Ralle roaming the streets of my hometown. His name basically means Loaded Ralphy.
Had had a doctor title in chemics and the only use he had for it was to do drugs. And he drank a lot. One sunny afternoon friends of mine picked me up after I finished my shitty job and we went to a local park were all the drunks were hanging out. We talked to him some, and then he mentioned that right now he was supposed to visit his little son (he of course was divorced) but he choose to go out and drink in the park instead.

Were the bar stools old music stools btw?

Did Loaded Ralphy have money? Those types make the best characters.

Unfortunately, there were no bar stools. Just chocolate brown leather lounge furniture.

[oettinger]

Did Loaded Ralphy have money? Those types make the best characters.

Unfortunately, there were no bar stools. Just chocolate brown leather lounge furniture.

I think he was (past tense, cause not sure if still alive) jobless or some kind of tutor. We never got into that detail after a bottle of japanese junk schnaps