You Are A Bartender, Part XI

[Dear Booze]

It’s 5:45 A.M. For the past hour and a half, you and several other bartenders and waiters have been sitting on the same patio, drinking, smoking, and exchanging stories of the best and worst of the food and beverage industry.

As the sun begins to appear over the Sierra Nevada mountain range, and starts to bathe the great San Joaquin Valley in an orange-red glow, you, like the owl, the ocelot, the raccoon, the vampire, and other nocturnal creatures, begin to seek darkness. Within moments, you and your friends have retreated to the living room. Even there, you realize that there will be no way to escape the light. So you resolve there is no solution but to leave The Sooker’s House. You glance at Ryan and can immediately tell that he’s ready to leave as well.

You and your friend say your goodbyes and leave. The plan is simple. Ryan will drive you back to the Stardust to retrieve your car, and you will head home, do a load or two of laundry, get to bed at a reasonable hour and be back at Giuseppe’s for your 5:00 Sunday evening shift.

You ride in silence and are struck by how quiet the streets are at 6:00 A.M. on a Sunday.

As Ryan pulls into the parking lot of the Highlander Village shopping center, you breathe a sigh of relief to see that your car is still there. Fresno is the automobile theft capitol of California.

Ryan pulls up alongside your car but there are no farewells exchanged. Instead, you both look at the Stardust room and realize that the bar is open. Without saying a word, you know the question. “Okay,” you answer, “just one and then I got go home.”

You make your way to the middle of the bar and are not surprised that there are already three other regular customers. Are they starting the day, or continuing the night? Either way, these are the kind of guys who will tell you “you can’t drink all day if you don’t start first thing in the morning.”

The bartender is Jerry “Sam” Samuelian, the 60-year-old son of an Armenian immigrant and part owner of two gas stations, a motel, a restaurant, and the Stardust Room. He’s also a notorious drinker who regularly disappears for weeks at a time while he locks himself inside one of his motel rooms and goes on a bender. During these times, he has liquor, food, and hookers sent to his room. But he never leaves. This has been going on for years and you are always genuinely surprised to see that he’s actually at work. But on this morning, you and Ryan both immediately recognize that Sam is plastered.

Ryan orders a Gin and Tonic and you order a Rum and Coke and you both sit and watch Sam’s hands tremble as he works hard to construct the two simple drinks. It takes him at least three minutes, but he manages to slide a little black cocktail straw into each glass, pick both glasses up, and head to the middle of the bar to deliver them to you and your friend. As he reaches you, he stops and looks directly at you and you can see some sort of light go on in Sam’s eyes. “Hey, you boys work at Giuseppe’s. Right?” You both smile and nod. “How’s the food over there” he asks, “I’ve been meaning to get over there for a while. I like a good ravioli. How’s the ravioli over there?”

Sam continues a monologue about northern Italian food, and red sauce, and leather booths, and cloth napkins, and about ten other things, all while still holding your drinks.

“Yea,” he continued, “I do think I should get over to that Giuseppe’s place sometime. I might just enjoy the ravioli. You say you got some ravioli, right?”

Then, Sam quit talking. Great. You are about to get your drink, finally. But instead, Sam lifts Ryan’s Gin and Tonic to his lips and takes a sip. “SHIT!” he exclaims, “That’s Gin,” and spits on the floor. In the same motion, he raises your Rum and Coke to his lips and takes a big drink. “Much better. What can I get you boys?”

“Goddammit Sam,” one of the regulars yells down the bar. “You’re too fucked up to be here. Go sit down.” Then the regular stands up slightly and looks directly at you. “You’re a bartender. Right?” You nod. “Then you don’t mind if this is a serve yourself kinda place until we can get another employee in here to take over. Right?”

For the next hour, you and Ryan and Sam and the three regulars sit and drink in the comfortable darkness of the Stardust Room. Finally, at around 7:30 AM, Herb shows up to take over.

Herb usually works the opening shift during the week, but is regularly called in on Saturdays and Sundays when Sam is too drunk to work - or when Sam doesn’t show up at all. He’s a likable overweight widower who retired from his job as a cop several years ago, but got bored and started bartending about six months after leaving the Police Department. He doesn’t mind getting called in to work on his day off. As he puts it, “What else am I gonna do? Sit home and slowly die?”

It doesn’t take long for you and Ryan to regain the comfortable buzz that wore off with the rising sun. So you decide to put off laundry for another day and, instead, to have a few more drinks.





You wake up to the bright afternoon sun shining through the smoke-stained slats of your shitty window blinds. It’s 3:45 and there is only a vague recollection of details from the night before. But the details aren’t important; it will be the same tonight as it was last night.

[oettinger]

I like drinking with the sun rising,
Streets are really emtpy sunday mornings. Althought I enjoy them the most at 3-4 a.m. between sundays and mondays. The people that you`ll find this time around on the streets are bad to the bone.
Sam lives the life! The armenian dream.

[Dear Booze]

Sam lives the life! The armenian dream.

The Armenian Dream!

[Dear Booze]

I like drinking with the sun rising,
Streets are really emtpy sunday mornings. Althought I enjoy them the most at 3-4 a.m. between sundays and mondays. The people that you`ll find this time around on the streets are bad to the bone.

I like the feeling I get when I go to the 7-Eleven to purchase more beer at 6 A.M. and stand in line with all those poor suckers who are buying coffee and donuts as they prepare to start their day at their shitty jobs.

If I'm drunk enough, I will talk to them. I like to let them know that while they slave away at a factory, or driving a truck, or whatever they will be doing for the next 8 hours, I'll be drinking.

[oettinger]

I like drinking with the sun rising,
Streets are really emtpy sunday mornings. Althought I enjoy them the most at 3-4 a.m. between sundays and mondays. The people that you`ll find this time around on the streets are bad to the bone.

I like the feeling I get when I go to the 7-Eleven to purchase more beer at 6 A.M. and stand in line with all those poor suckers who are buying coffee and donuts as they prepare to start their day at their shitty jobs.

If I'm drunk enough, I will talk to them. I like to let them know that while they slave away at a factory, or driving a truck, or whatever they will be doing for the next 8 hours, I'll be drinking.

Best thing is the stupid faces of people looking out the commuting bus. They spot me walking by with a fresh beer and think "What a bum, has no life. Such a disgrace to society!" etc... So far from the truth but who am I telling

[Dear Booze]

I like drinking with the sun rising,
Streets are really emtpy sunday mornings. Althought I enjoy them the most at 3-4 a.m. between sundays and mondays. The people that you`ll find this time around on the streets are bad to the bone.

I like the feeling I get when I go to the 7-Eleven to purchase more beer at 6 A.M. and stand in line with all those poor suckers who are buying coffee and donuts as they prepare to start their day at their shitty jobs.

If I'm drunk enough, I will talk to them. I like to let them know that while they slave away at a factory, or driving a truck, or whatever they will be doing for the next 8 hours, I'll be drinking.

Best thing is the stupid faces of people looking out the commuting bus. They spot me walking by with a fresh beer and think "What a bum, has no life. Such a disgrace to society!" etc... So far from the truth but who am I telling

Living the dream. Living the dream. The suckers just can't see through their jealous glasses.

[oldsmartskunk]

Slaving away your life in a factory,office or any kind of shithole just to buy a little bit of freedom - that is how normal members of society function. Doesn't sound very appealing.

[The Urbane Spaceman]

Fresno is the automobile theft capitol of California...

“What else am I gonna do? Sit home and slowly die?”

You wake up to the bright afternoon sun shining through the smoke-stained slats of your shitty window blinds. It’s 3:45 and there is only a vague recollection of details from the night before. But the details aren’t important; it will be the same tonight as it was last night.

We speak the same language, my friend. Keep this up. It suits you quite well.





DRINK!

[Dear Booze]

Fresno is the automobile theft capitol of California...

“What else am I gonna do? Sit home and slowly die?”

You wake up to the bright afternoon sun shining through the smoke-stained slats of your shitty window blinds. It’s 3:45 and there is only a vague recollection of details from the night before. But the details aren’t important; it will be the same tonight as it was last night.

We speak the same language, my friend. Keep this up. It suits you quite well.





DRINK!

There he is. The Urbane Spaceman.

I haven't heard from you in a while!

These bartender tales share geography with the stories of Zid and Fuckno Wars. Wondering if you've crossed paths with any of the characters.