You Are A Bartender, Part X

[Dear Booze]

At 5:00 A.M., you are still sitting on The Sooker’s patio with your friends, sharing stories of Jimmy Lester and other odd characters that you have all known.

“You guys remember the Flintstones?” asked TomTom. “I haven’t seen them in a while.”

The Flintstones are a married couple in their late 30’s or early 40’s who can be found at any given local bar on Wednesdays, Fridays and Sundays. Of course, you have no idea what their real last name is, but it is most certainly not “Flintstone”. Plus, they share no resemblance to the cartoon characters, Fred and Wilma. Regular customers are often referred to by nicknames among food and beverage staff members, and you aren’t sure where most of them come from. Sure, there are people like “Leather Face”, “Greasy Guy”, “Stinky Guy”, “Loud Lady”, and “Big Ears”, who have names that make sense. But there are others like “Kitty Kat”, “Zoom Zoom”, “Screwy Dewie”, and “the Flintstones”. You have no idea why someone decided to start calling them by those names. The only thing you are sure of is that these nicknames are not terms of endearment, and they should never be used in the presence of the people to whom you are referring.

“Have you guys heard about Ryan’s pepper grinder incident?” asked The Sooker.

Of course we had all heard the story. But, just like turning on the TV at any point during the movie Caddyshack, you enjoy it over and over again. It’s not just Ryan’s tale either. You and all of your friends have at least one doosie that never gets old.

“Common, Ryan,” urged The Sooker. “Tell us the story.”

“Alright,” said Ryan quietly. “But I’ve told this story a million times.”

Ryan paused for a moment, finished his Gin and Tonic, took a long drag from his cigarette and started in.

“I was working the opening shift and had only one table. It was a four-top with two old couples. I mean, they were really old. Shit, this happened three or four years ago, so they’re probably all dead by now. Any how, I brought out their salads and was carrying the peppermill under my left arm. I set down all four plates and asked them if they would like freshly ground pepper.”

“They always do,” TomTom interjected. “Why the fuck do they think ‘freshly ground pepper’ is so fucking up-scale?”

“Yea,” added Ten Pen. “And fucking dinner rolls. They act like you cannot buy fucking dinner rolls in a fucking grocery store. Like it’s some sort of fucking delicacy or something.”

“So,” continued Ryan, “as I swung the grinder from under my arm the ball thing at the top, you know, the part you twist? Well, anyway it flew off and hit one of the old women in the jaw.”

You started to laugh. Not so much because it’s a funny ending to the story, but because you know what’s coming next.

“Then,” Ryan said, pausing to light a new cigarette. “The old lady’s husband grabbed me by the arm and told me that I could have killed his wife and that I should learn to be ‘professional’. Of course I agreed and apologized and told them that dinner was on me.

The thing is, I couldn’t figure out how the hell that thing flew off. Apparently, the little chrome nut that holds the ball on had fallen off. And I couldn’t find it. I looked everywhere too.

Well, the other old lady put a big old fork full of salad in her mouth and started chewing and immediately busted her denture on the fucking chrome nut. I mean, the fake tooth actually broke and fell out of her mouth and landed on her bread plate. I thought I was going to get my ass kicked by a couple of hundred-year-old dudes. And one of the busboys thought he should call 911 because I started laughing so hard I couldn’t breathe.”

You all started laughing like it was the first time you had ever heard the story. You were howling so loud that Joey opened his eyes and sat up. “Pistyoresme. Yea,” is all he said before going back to sleep.

[oettinger]

If I have to tell a story a millionth time I tend to leave out important parts or add not so important ones.