You Are A Bartender, Part IX

[Dear Booze]

By 4:15 A.M., Joey was officially passed out. Yet, The Sooker, TomTom, Ryan, and you remained on the patio. You all sat in expensive patio furniture and nursed your cocktails in silence. Within a few minutes, you were joined by Ten Pin Tom.

“Is he asleep?” asked Ten Pin.

Yep. He’s out,” answered TomTom in a hushed voice. “Jesus, he’s a mess tonight.”

The rest of the members of your small group nodded, and grunted in agreement.

“Well,” said Ten Pin, “He deserves a pass tonight. He had a hell of an evening. Jimmy Lester was killed tonight.”

Jimmy Lester was a name you and your friends knew well. He was a notoriously mean drunk who made his way around the bar scene and left a trail of being unwelcome in most of the bars you know. He was about 55-years old but, with the exception of a full thick head of dark wavy hair, looked at least 70. You aren’t sure if Jimmy had a job, or a family, or a car. You really didn’t know much about him except that you had to ask him to leave Guiseppe’s on two different occasions. One time was because he fell asleep with his head on the bar. The other time was because he showed up shit housed drunk and started yelling “I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU” when you refused to serve him. Then, he turned to a pair of young ladies who were trying to enjoy a quiet girls-night-out, and called them “cunts”. Then, he picked up an empty shot glass from in front of them and threw it across the bar. Strangely, the glass didn’t hit anyone, didn’t damage anything, and didn’t even break. However, you immediately ran to his side to “assist” him out the door. But by the time you reached him, he was already heading for the door. You considered yourself lucky; Jimmy was notorious for putting up a pretty good fight when he was in the process of getting 86ed. As a matter of fact, Big Tom has a similar story about Jimmy, but his tale ends with Big Tom getting his nose broken.

Ten Pin Tom explained how Jimmy Lester met his end.

“Jimmy started drinking at the Captain’s Brig (where Joey works), at around seven. Joey said he was already pretty shitty when he showed up. After a couple hours, Jimmy pissed on the floor without even bothering to leave his barstool, so Joey kicked him out.

Apparently, he walked to the Firehouse Pub and tried to order more drinks. Tommy took a look at him and said ‘no fucking way Jimmy. You aren’t supposed to be in here.’ So Jimmy said ‘FUCK YOU’ and left without starting any other shit. Then, I guess he decided to take a shortcut home, or to go to another bar or something, and decided to walk across the freeway.”

“Wait,” said Ryan, “he tried crossing 41?”

California State Route 41 is a 185-mile, six-lane freeway which connects Yosemite National Park with Pismo Beach and runs through town. Its approximate mid point happens to be located right behind the Firehouse Pub.

“Yep,” Ten Pin continued, “he must have hopped the fence and tried running across all six lanes. He almost made it too. I guess a truck hit him right before he got to the last lane. Fuck.”

“Holy shit” was the only reply you could think of.

“Joey’s pretty shook up,” said Ten Pin. “He’s a little upset that Jimmy got killed, and a little worried that he’s going to get some shit for over-serving the poor son-of-a-bitch.”

There was a long silent pause.

“Here’s to Jimmy Fucking Lester,” announced Ryan as he poured a little bit of his Gin and Tonic on the concrete patio floor.

You and The Sooker and Ten Pin Tom and TomTom all laughed a little and poured some of your drinks out too.

“Here’s to Jimmy Fucking Lester.”

[mistah willies]

Shotgun end to this part. Dayam.

(BTW, always wanted to tell a story in the second person, but never found a way to do it. You got it bud).

yessah.

[Dear Booze]

Shotgun end to this part. Dayam.

(BTW, always wanted to tell a story in the second person, but never found a way to do it. You got it bud).

yessah.

Me too. Bright Lights Big City kinda like. Yep.

[oettinger]

This weekend on any given skype call I will shout "To Jimmy Fucking" Lester out of nowhere. Just to check who is reading this great series

[oettinger]

Oh and from my job way back then I know a guy like that. He was called Giovanni and was frequenting our youth club although he was way to old already. Often drunk or drugged up or both. He also asked us for help often when he got letters from the fed prosecutor "`cause he was drunk and the random guy he knocked out locked at him the wrong way etc etc."
For some reason he liked me and usually behaved when I told him to do so. Sadly my favourite dive was just next to the block where he lived at and everytime he entered at 4 a.m. with some friends, I knew trouble was about to happen. Always.
Haven`t seen him in a long time, must be because I don`t pay random visits to the jail or so.

[mistah willies]

Haven`t seen him in a long time, must be because I don`t pay random visits to the jail or so.

That's exactly why I haven't visited Sean in a long time, after what he did to Monica.

[oettinger]

Haven`t seen him in a long time, must be because I don`t pay random visits to the jail or so.

That's exactly why I haven't visited Sean in a long time, after what he did to Monica.

Strapped her on the bed, put a red hat on her head and called her Santa Monica?

[oldsmartskunk]

You write so well. The story flows easily and damn... It seems drinking circles have so much in common. Strange thing (or not) - real hardcore alcoholics never die from cirrhosis, cancer or weird STD's. They get hit by a car or freeze to death.

Haven`t seen him in a long time, must be because I don`t pay random visits to the jail or so.

That's exactly why I haven't visited Sean in a long time, after what he did to Monica.

We don't really know what he did to Monica. Oettinger's version is probably more gentle than the truth.