31 May 2012

Silly Boys; Bitchy Bartending and Pet Peeves

People ask me a lot what nationality I am. 
I do not know why. 
Sometimes, people assume that I am Greek. Or Spanish.
Which doesn't really bother me.
What bothers me is when they begin to speak Greek.
Or Spanish.
Out of the blue.
In the middle of a sentence.
Not that there is anything wrong with the language...but when people switch mid-sentence, I end up asking, "What?" about six times before I realize that they are not speaking English.
Knock that shit off.
Plus?
I have a freaking dream catcher tattooed on my arm.
Why are we assuming I am Greek?

"So. Are you coming home with me tonight?"
Ummm. No. No I am not.
While I appreciate the offer and everything?
Fuck off.
Has that ever worked for you?
Ever?

"Hey! Bartender!"
"Yep. Whatcha need?"
"My friend thinks you're hot."
Seriously?
Are you guys sure you are old enough to drink?


"Can I have your phone number?"
"No. But you can leave me yours..."
I only say that so that I don't offend you.
 Unless I actually save the number in my phone?
I am going to throw it away when you leave.


If I am talking to you at the bar and some guy wanders over and asks if I am your girlfriend... Don't answer until I do. 
Because if he's THAT guy?
 I am going to lie and tell him that you are.
I fully expect you to lie with me.


Do not flirt with me in front of your girlfriend.
It just lets everyone know what a douche bag you are, and we are all hoping your girlfriend ditches you for a real man soon.

Also?
On a completely unrelated to bartending note?
Why the fuck do you wear sunglasses on the back of your head.
First of all?
It's fucking dark outside.
Second?
It just looks stupid.
Really stupid.
Seriously. That looks incredibly stupid.

30 May 2012

Yes. The pirate costume is mandatory...

The pirate thing started here
It was the very worst year of my life.
The. Very. Worst.
M and T held my hand and patted my head and generally helped talk me down from every nervous breakdown I almost had.

Probably that's why the whole pirate thing stuck with me so much.
It was the best of times. It was the worst of times, said Dickens. That pretty much describes the entire last year of my life. 
And now?
I'm turning 30.
And yeah, I'm pretty much freaking the fuck out!

I do not know why I have decided that we simply must dress up like pirates and drink all day long... but that is what I am going to do for my birthday.
I have already begun Googling pirate costumes.
Holly is all down to dress up and drink with me.
We have formed a loose plan.

Someday in July, we will dress as pirates and begin drinking rum in the early afternoon. In this town? There is a two block stretch with three bars. 

We are going to walk back and forth between all of the bars, dressed as pirates, and drink rum and cokes until we simply can't walk anymore.

At which point, we are going to lay down on the sidewalk and wait for Kensey to come take pictures of our drunken selves.
Holly says we will lay on the sidewalk and when we see the flash of Kensey's camera?
We will wonder if it is God or if it is Kensey.
Kensey will probably help us stand up.
But he will definitely take pictures of us first.
It's going to be awesome.
And painful in the morning.
And he will definitely tag the pictures on Facebook.
But I have this feeling it's going to be one of those nights I will think fondly of for years and years.
If you would like to join in our pirate adventure?
Come see us.
I will post a date as soon as I figure one out.

28 May 2012

I HATE the media...

This one is not funny.
Not even a little bit funny.
Krissy is pissed.

I read the following article today... on Memorial Day of all days.

The title didn't piss me off. The subtitle that reads "Weak economy may play a role" in the print issue of today's Times instantly made me reconsider my viewpoint on headkicking. The author goes on to compare the percentage of veterans that are filing claims from OIF/OEF to the percentage of vets filing claims from the Vietnam War. She also says that "government officials and some veterans' advocates believe the weak economy is prompting some claims".
Really?
The implication that veterans are seeking compensation simply because they can't find a job is moronic at best and dangerous at worst.

First of all, we are going to skip over the statistics for military members that lost limbs and sight and hearing. Obviously  there is higher rate of vets seeking benefits for these injuries because modern medicine has been able to save service members that would have been killed in previous wars.

Part of the article mentions that veterans are claiming an average of eight to nine ailments. 
Again.
Fucking obviously.
You know why?
Because we are sending these people on two, three or four fucking tours.

And now?
With all of that mentioned...
The reference to PTSD and TBI decidedly changed my viewpoint on headkicking.
TBI or traumatic brain injury is essentially brain damage. The ringing in the ears that I can't even imagine having to live with... the personality changes that the vet and families have to live with... Is much, much more serious that the mention of "350,000 report tinnitus, noise or ringing in the ears". 

PTSD obviously strikes a nerve with me:
You can read that story here if you're so inclined.
It's a bit more serious than fucking nightmares.
This post will take up an entire month of my time if I start listing the symptoms and complications and personal feelings involving PTSD.
So, I will simply say that the condition itself tells the sufferer that nothing is wrong. It often leads to depression, which also tells the sufferer that they are just fine.
Guilt and shame play a huge part in PTSD.
Implying that a veteran is seeking help simply to get money from the government gives them one more reason to feel like shit about themselves and delay treatment - leading to serious fucking complications...like, you know, suicide. Homicide. Drug or alcohol abuse. Psychosis for fuck's sake.

I fucking hate the media...but I am hating it more and more every day.
I understand the whole reporting thing, with facts and stats and all that shit.
But shouldn't they maybe think this through a little bit before publishing this shit.
The author is the chief fucking medical writer.
You'd think maybe she'd realize what effect her article could have on veterans and their families.
Someone could have been on the verge of calling for help, read the article and thought, Oh, they'll just think I want money...
To hell with the stats and facts.
Maybe some consideration and, I don't know, respect for the men and women that fought for our country?
Of course maybe I am a wee bit oversensitive to the issue...

Okay.
Rant is over for the day.
I think.

24 May 2012

Actual conversation with a jackoff #2 - Gun Shop

First of all, I don't want to sound like a snotty bitch. I realize that not everyone has a working knowledge of guns... But fuck. If everything you DO know is from a rap song, video game or movie? 
Please, please, just let your gun salesman know that you don't know dick.
Otherwise, we are tempted to pistol whip you, right there in the store.

He was a white guy, with a gold tooth in the front of his mouth.
Yeah, yeah, call me a judgmental asshole, but something told me that I probably shouldn't talk to the guy...

Jack off: "Hey, this is an AK, right? (Picks up a Smith and Wesson MP15)

Krissy: "Um. Nope."

Jackoff turns gun over in his hands multiple times, apparently unable to decipher the make and model stamping on the firearm, and also unable to flip the tag over to read it...

Jackoff: "So what it is it then?"

Krissy: "It's an AR, man. Smith and Wesson MP15."

Jackoff: "Ah. So it's a .40 then?"

Krissy: "Um. Nope. It's either a .223, 5.56 or a .22... What's the stamp say? Should be on the receiver or on the tag."

Jackoff: "Well isn't a Smith and Wesson a .40 though?"

Krissy: "Huh. I'm not sure, man. You know, I don't even actually work here." 
And I return to doing computer work and leave the guy to one of the younger kids at the counter, figuring after ten years or so I have already paid my working-with-retards dues.
This is a Smith and Wesson MP15

This is an AK47, I guess I can see where the guy confused. No clue about the 40 cal though.



22 May 2012

Screw Political Correctness. What happened to common sense?

First of all? 
If you don't want your six year-old patted down by TSA?
 Drive. 
Just fucking drive and skip the bullshit. 
The TSA is not violating your civil rights. You agreed to the shit when you bought the ticket, so why are bitching about it now?
Although, I do have to ask who the hell makes these rules?
Was there a memo sent out at some point, telling TSA agents to pat down random kindergartners so the middle eastern passengers didn't feel singled out?
Seriously.
Why are we patting down six year-olds?
I have one.
They can't lie for shit.
If they had a bomb, they'd just tell everyone.
Especially the people you have told them not to tell.

Sheriff Joe Arpaio. 
The guy from Arizona... the one with the harsh illegal immigration stance...
"That's racial profiling..."
Yes. 
Yes it is.
You know why?
Because Canadians are not in the habit of hopping the border from Mexico into Arizona. 
So yes, it is racial profiling.
But to be fair, I guess, he should be pulling over white people that look suspiciously like Mexican illegals.
And of course, with all of the media bullshit surrounding the situation, the US Department of Justice has filed suit against the guy for, you know, enforcing a standing law.
If officers in his department have violated laws or civil rights?
Then of course they should be held accountable, as individuals. 
Because chances are they are just assholes and should have been weeded out in the psychological testing. 
And before you call me a racist? 
I married a Mexican.
Okay, he was born in Michigan and claims to be Spanish... but he's a Mexican.  

Also?
Stop fucking suing people. 
On the news, just now, a lawsuit has been filed against someone that sent a text to someone else, who tried to respond and crashed and died. 
Yes, really.
Hopefully, it will get thrown out. But who knows anymore.
McDonald's is responsible for our obesity.
Marlboro is responsible for our lung cancer.
Beretta is responsible for gun violence...
 Personal responsibility seems to have been abandoned along with common sense these days.

And can we all just agree that whole separation of State and Church is a good idea. But that, essentially, it doesn't mean that we should remove the word "God" from every freaking traditional place it is in? 
You know, like the whole Pledge of Allegiance thing? And the dollar bill, and the license plates and everything else while simultaneously petitioning to build Muslim prayer rooms in public schools.
I don't fucking get it.
Separation of Church and State?
Pretty much means that the State can not pass laws against establishing or practicing any religion.
So, in Krissy's interpretation?
The US cannot outlaw Muslims, Jews, Atheists, Agnostics, Pagans, Satanists, Catholics, Protestants, Amish people or anyone else from establishing and practicing their religions. It can not declare any religion to be the official religion of the country. 
There is nothing, at least in my interpretation, that states that in an effort to not offend any other religion we should all have to bend over backward and suck our own dicks. 
Not a single thing.
I am not particularly religious. Or at all really. I mostly only pray when I see a squad car in my rearview. So, it's not an offense to my religious views. It offends my sense of logic.

Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton. 
I fucking hate you, you over-inflated, racist, ignorance-spewing piles of shit. 
White people, in general, are not the fucking problem.
 You, as individuals, are the problem.
 Even when ignorant racist white people are the problem? When these jack asses insert themselves into the situation, it becomes nothing more than a spectacle and I find it impossible to take seriously. 
Yeah, I'm an asshole like that.
Plus? 
Who cares if the black kid only had a water pistol?
What does it matter if the cop was white?
A black cop would have shot the kid just as quickly.
Should we expect our law enforcement officers to assume in every situation that the gun someone is pointing at them is a toy?
Again... with the common fucking sense.

And...that's all I have for today.



17 May 2012

I'm A Female And I Still Don't Understand This Shit

Ugh. Stop staring at the boobs I am shoving in your face, you jerk.
"My eyes are up here, you know."
Yes. 
Yes they are.
And probably people would pay more attention to them if your shirt wasn't cut down to your fucking belly button.
What is wrong with you?
Do you really believe that no one knows you do that on purpose?
You know what you're doing.
I know what you're doing.
Everyone in the whole world knows what you are doing.
If you are going to put your shit out there like that? Don't bitch because people notice.




"My boss sexually harassed me..."
Oh yeah?
How so?
Did he threaten your job?
Did he threaten your position, or make a promotion dependent on your willingness to put out?
No?
Oh. He hit on you.
There is difference between flirting and sexual harassment.
You are the reason that no one takes the shit seriously.

"Ugh. She's such a slut/whore/homewrecker/bitch..."
Um. Okay.
All this tells me is that you are comfortable judging someone else because you recognize pieces of yourself in their behavior or personality. 
Seriously.
I'm not a shrink or anything... But most of the time when I see people that hate other people without cause, it's because shit hits a little too close to home.

Don't get pissed off at some girl for flirting with your boyfriend/husband...
If your relationship is so insecure that you think flirting might lead to some midnight tryst - leave the guy. 
I mean if you really, really think that your boyfriend is going to sleep with the Denny's waitress just because she smiled at him and he smiled back?
What the fuck are you doing with the guy?
Have a little self respect, woman. 

"Plus he has a little dick/sucks in bed.."
Someone is still a wee bit bitter over being dumped, eh?

Stop playing dumb.
Just fucking stop it.
When did stupidity become attractive?
Never. 
It's never been attractive and you make me want to beat you with a blunt object.
To death.
If a guy gives you the impression that he would rather have a drooling moron for a companion than an intelligent woman?
Run the fuck away.
Fast.
There is nothing good about any person that seeks a relationship on the basis of superiority.
I don't care how hot/rich/charming the guy is, he's obviously a  douche bag.

I hope she's playing dumb... But even if she isn't? This is the kind of jack off that likes stupid girls. And someone should beat him to death. Slowly.

To all the women trying to be men....
Fucking stop it!
Yeah, yeah, women can do anything men can do...
Except not always.
I am all down for equality and all that shit...
But if a woman wants to do a man's job she should have to do it to the same standards as the men.
I simply do not understand the practice of making adjustments or lessening physical requirements in the name of equality...
Isn't that the opposite of equality, by definition?
Or am I just fucked up?


16 May 2012

Naked Sword Fights, Rookie Cops and Lightsabers

T tells me that he has heard the most interesting story on the news.. something about a guy that comes home drunk, strips naked and then tells his girlfriend to get naked and meet him in the middle of the street because they are going to have a naked sword fight to the death. The guy grabs his actual fucking sword and goes out into the road to wait for his girlfriend to join him.

Meanwhile, the girlfriend locks all the doors and windows and calls the cops. 
The moral of this story?
T thinks he is not receiving the full effects of alcohol.
T can not remember the last time he drank a six pack and wanted to fight naked in the middle of the street.
I think probably this incident had something to do with bath salts. 
I do not know exactly why I think this, but bath salts and stories of naked men wielding swords are inextricably linked in my brain.

T wonders if we should drink a six pack and then have a sword fight...being pirates and all.
But neither of us has a sword.
We do have pocket knives though.
But I think pirates should not have public pocket knife fights. 
We would just look stupid. 
Even fully clothed.

Fortunately, Youngest Child has lightsabers.

It is then, after one more shot of tequila, decided that we absolutely must go and steal lightsabers from Youngest Child and proceed to have a lightsaber fight to the death in the middle of some highway.

Not just in the middle of a residential road.
Because we are not pussies like that.
Obviously.

I think pirates are not the most trustworthy people in the world so I think I should probably have an extra weapon ready in case T wants to have a sword fight before we get to the lightsabers.

I slip a butter knife into my pocket and tell bossman he can just take the cost out of my check.
I don't think he heard me or knew what the hell I was talking about, but he nodded and smiled anyway.

I tell T we are not going to have naked fights. Because it's cold mostly, but also because we probably will get arrested for middle of the highway lightsaber fights, but at least we will not be arrested for indecent exposure at the same time.

T looks all incredulous.
He gestures to himself.
"Really? You think, if any cop sees me running down the highway nude, with a lightsaber, he is going to tackle me? I mean, really?"

I tell T that just this week I witnessed an episode of Cops that featured a nude man being tackled by a police officer.

I mention that the cops probably will not be so intimidated by a toy lightsaber.

T ponders.
I drink more.
T then decides that obviously, it was the rookie cop that had to tackle the naked guy... so we will just have to avoid rookie cops during our highway lightsaber fight.

I remind T that we are not going to be fighting nude.
T ponders again.
Then he decides that if we do get caught in a lightsaber highway fight?
He will strip naked and then run away.
Maybe just to prove that no one is willing to tackle him naked.
I tell him I will probably not get arrested in that case, as everyone will be focused on catching the naked guy.

T ponders some more.
It is then brought up that if we were ever in a horror movie and we were running away from the bad guy?
T would shoot me.
Just in the foot or something, give the bad guy something to do while T gets away.

I am confused by the sudden turn in conversation. I wonder out loud what the Hell pirates are doing in a horror movie anyway... I mean cross-genre is the newest thing, but no one is going to put pirates in a horror movie for fuck's sake.


I pretend to look offended and tell him that chivalry really must be dead.
T shrugs and mentions that someone has to survive in order to tell the story...


14 May 2012

Things and people than make me irrationally angry....

BP Oil's we're cleaning up our mess commercials...
"We are paying people a percentage of what they should have made in the fishing industry and we are wiping birds off with baby wipes or some shit.
We are very sorry that we caused this catastrophe with our negligence... but look how pretty we made the grasses look again."
You want a fucking cookie or something?
Of course you're cleaning it up.
It's your mess.
People generally do not applaud the efforts of adult doing what they are supposed to be doing.
I'm sure Louisiana appreciates the efforts you are making...but probably they would have preferred to skip the mess in the first place.
I'm glad I live here and not in Louisiana, because probably I'd have had to blow up some executive's house or something.
The moronic marketing director that thought people are probably retarded enough to simply forget that BP caused the mess if they were force fed this "see how much we care" bullshit?
Should be fired.
And probably beaten by an angry mob.
And then shot.
Asshole.

Eli Lilly Pharmaceutical ads.
Why do you put that feel-good we are a caring company bullshit on TV?
Personally?
All I can think when I see one of those ads is, if I had any money, and if I were an investor, I'd pull my money out right the fuck now.
Because it seems obvious that the company has somehow fucked up in a major way and they are attempting preemptive damage control.
Like maybe if we tell the public in general how much we care about people and something about donating money to ghetto kids or something...No one will even notice those birth defects our products are causing.

People that never get pimples.
Probably it has something to with black magic or a deal with the devil or something.

People that spout political bullshit out of their mouths and have no fucking clue what they are talking about...
Something about Obama and a controversial former pastor.
And then something about how he isn't even an American, he wasn't born in this country.
And he is obviously a Muslim... since he renounced that CHRISTIAN FUCKING PASTOR and all.
Something else about how the Iraq war is bullshit and they found no weapons of mass destruction.
I don't have a whole lot of faith in our government, but I am reasonably sure they verified our President's fucking green card status before allowing him to take office.
People are entitled to their opinions and all that.... but these people are spreading stupidity like a disease.
They should be quarantined immediately like Typhoid Mary.
And also shot.
In the toes or something.
Because we can't just go around killing stupid people for being stupid.
Even when we really, really want to.

Tall people.
Because I am short.

Radicals.
All of them. 
People that post inflammatory shit with stupid comments, like:
"Man Arrested for Posting Atheist Facebook Status"
Or "Woman Beaten for Protesting Goverment"
and then they post comments like,
"This could happen to you...."
No.
No it couldn't.
You know why?
Because I live in the United States, and if you'd bothered to read the article, you'd realize they are talking about Indonesia for fuck's sake.
I think they can hang you there for farting in public or something. 
I appreciate that people are passionate about causes and shit... but if you are going to put that much energy into something?
Probably you should research it.
Just a little.

Occupy Anything protesters...
What the fuck do you even want?
You are protesting what?
The state of the global economy?
If you want to change something?
Vote.
Run for office. 
Try to at least pinpoint a few fucking things that you want to change.
And then go get a fucking job and stop wasting the Ivy League education your parents paid for.
Fuck sticks.
I agree that corporations are evil, China is the devil and wealth is distributed in our country disproportionately... Because, you know, communism was a great idea in theory, but it's been proven to be a really fucking bad idea in practice.
If you really want to close the gap a little bit?
Again...GET A FUCKING JOB!
You remind me of the people that protested Pluto being demoted from a planet to a rock. 
Get a fucking hobby or something.


13 May 2012

WTF? People that make me want to throw heavy things at them...

This is not a bartending rant.
This is a what the fuck is wrong with some people rant.

A few weeks ago, a guy came into the bar with two young women. They ordered their drinks and the guy walked off to play the jukebox, after announcing that he was buying the round, but before he actually paid for it.
So, yeah, already I am annoyed.
I wait.
And wait.
And then he returns and says, "Hey can you turn that up a cunt hair?"
Honestly, I couldn't hear what the guy was saying.
I made the mistake of saying, "Huh?" instead of nodding and smiling like I usually do.
So he yells, "CAN. YOU. TURN. THE. JUKEBOX. UP. A. CUNT. HAIR."
Really?
Just. 
Fucking really?
What the hell is wrong with you?
I mean other than the fact your mom drank because you cried and your daddy didn't fucking hug you enough?
First of all?
It is early enough in the evening that there is still a wide range of ages sitting at the bar. Have some fucking respect for your elders, you dumb fuck.
Second?
Do you feel cool now?
I mean really, I'm sure the two girls that came in with you are thinking that you are a rebel and all kinds of an awesome 12 year-old fucking child stuck in a man's body.
Using shock value for attention is something you are supposed to grow out of before you finish puberty.
It's not the language itself that pisses me off. It's that obnoxious, "Look at me! Look at me! I'm cool because I said cunt in front of everyone!" demeanor that makes me want to throw a fucking brick through this guy's forehead.
Personally, the word cunt does not offend me. I am probably missing something vital in my brain, because it is damn near impossible to offend me. 
And yet somehow?
 This fucking jack off has offended me by his very existence.
I want to hit him with something.
Badly.
Fortunately, I have children.
So I already know that giving this douche bag the attention he seems to be craving will only reinforce his ridiculous behavior. 
So I ignored his request.
Just like I do my three year old when he throws a fit.
I did give him one of those looks.. not the one that lets him know that I am angry with him.
I give him the look that tells him that I find him to be a raging fucking moron and maybe mutter something about how stupid kills, but not enough to really help humanity any as I walk away.
When he calls me over  a few moments later and asks me if I can turn the jukebox up, I do and I even smile at him.
Positive reinforcement.
Just like my toddler.
Or a puppy.
Because, apparently, this guy's parents forgot to teach him any sort of manners or give him any sort of idea about what is appropriate behavior in public. 
I mean, that old lady? Probably someone's grandmother...think about it for a second. Would you want some jack ass yelling "cunt" out in front of your grandma?
More than being annoyed or angry with the guy, I feel some sort of weird combination of embarrassment and  disgust.
I am not embarrassed by the guy, I'm embarrassed for him, because he is obviously lacking the mental and emotional capability to be embarrassed for himself.
And disgust, because, well, it's fucking disgusting to see a grown ass man act like an obnoxious middle school-er in front of the whole bar.

07 May 2012

Is there some sort of jack off gene that is activated by consumption of alcohol?

Sometimes? 
I tend bar all night long and never run into any of the behaviors that I have bitched about on this blog.
Then again?
Sometimes I get all of them, and more, on a single night.

The bar quote of the night?
"Jeez, Krissy, you could write a blog for every night you work, huh?"
Not always.
But sometimes.

And a note, once again, this isn't one single customer, at some point, multiple people have displayed the same behaviors. There should be a study somewhere about genetics and the propensity for jack off behavior among bar patrons.

Number One
"Ugh. Really? What the fuck is that? Don't you have glass shot glasses? The plastic ones suck and they are smaller."
Yes, yes I do. 
Unfortunately? I also have a full fucking bar and a sink full of glasses that I haven't had the time to wash.
Also?
 The plastic ones?
 Hold the same amount of liquor. 
I would wash one and demonstrate this fact...ONCE AGAIN, but I can't. As I mentioned, I have a full fucking bar and I am busy.
In case you somehow missed basic middle school math classes...
The glass shot glass holds one ounce.
The plastic one holds one ounce.
Different sizes - same fucking volume.
The glasses are TALLER because there is a bunch of solid fucking glass on the bottom of them. 
And you are lucky that they are all in the sink at this point because this also makes them excellent weapons.
Technically, I could fill the glass shot glass to the brim and maybe give you almost an extra quarter of an ounce of liquor - but you will spill it before it gets to your mouth and then bitch about that.
So, yeah.
You are a pain in the ass.

Number Two
Actual conversation from last night....
"Excuse me..." Hands me a mostly empty cup. "I spilled my drink, can I get another one? I'll clean it up for you, if you have a mop."
"Who spilled it?
She looks all sheepish and apologetic, "I did, I'm so sorry."
"It's okay," I told her, "I'll get it. Vodka and cranberry, right?"
She nods.
I make her drink and she walks away with it while I go to get the mop. I'm irritated, because the bar is full, but I understand that shit happens.
 After I half-ass mop up her mess, I walk past her and tell her, "Three dollars darlin'"
And this fucking bitch has the audacity to look offended. 
"Wait. What? I didn't know that I had to pay for it if I spilled it. I never would have ordered it."
Yes, yes I do want to hit her with the fucking mop, because, really? 
Are you fucking retarded bitch?
Instead, I simply nod and smile.
"Well, here then, you can just have it back if I have to pay for it."
Now we both know that I can't resell the fucking thing.
And surely she expected me to roll my eyes, tell her to keep it and go on about my business.
Nope.
Fuck you.
Because you can motherfuck me up and down this bar, talk shit about me, give me dirty looks and stiff me on a tip and I will never be as pissed off as when you insult my intelligence by trying to pull this stupid shit and expecting me to fall for it.
So I took the drink back and let her watch me dump it out.
Yes, it still was a waste of liquor and cost the bar the wholesale..but really?
Fuck you, bitch.
I'd rather pay for the shit myself than let you think you got away with something that fucking stupid.
If you want to play games?
 I'll play.
If you are truly dumb enough to believe you didn't have to pay for a drink you spilled?
You shouldn't be drinking anyway.
It may kill the few remaining brain cells you have.
She left in a huff, apparently off in search of a more gullible bartender.
Good fucking riddance.

Number Three
Do not waltz into a bar, look around, see that it is fucking slammed, order a drink and then walk away while I am making it.
You are a fucking jack off.
I have other people to take care of, but instead, I am playing catch the fucking customer around the bar.
At some point last night?
 When the third fucking guy did it? 
I simply put my head down on the bar and groaned.

Number Four
You came in, you ordered a drink and you walked around the bar while I was making it. Apparently you thought I was taking too long to locate you and deliver your shit and you decided to leave.
First of all, I should tell you you are the millionth (seemingly) kid I have seen in the bar tonight.
At some point, you all look the same... I mean I vaguely remember a beard. Or a mustache, or maybe it was a green coat....
See what I'm saying here?
I hate to be the one to break it to you, sweetheart...
But whoever told you that the entire world revolved around you and that you are the most important person anywhere at any given time?
Was a fucking liar.
And probably also your mother.
All customers are important to me, and I do my best to make them happy.
Except for you, you arrogant fucking douche bag.

Number Five
I have some god damn thick skin.
Nothing you say is going to offend me or shock me.
I am incapable of blushing.
I spent ten years in a gun store for fuck's sake, you think you're ridiculous wink-wink bullshit can top ten years of rednecks and blue collar chauvinists?
Trust me, kid.
I've heard it all, and then more.
The adolescent act of using shock value for attention irritates me or amuses me, depending on my mood.
Lewd sexual innuendos can only bring one of two responses from me.
If I am already irritated?
My "you have got to be kidding me" expression alone is going to make you feel like a twelve year old boy with a hard on in front of the entire study hall.
I am then going to embarrass you further in front of your friends by rolling my eyes, smiling condescendingly and asking you if that approach has ever fucking worked. 
I mean, fucking really?
Ever?
If I am in the mood to amuse myself with you, I am going to play dumb. 
I am going to look confused and answer you with some off the wall bullshit that will make you think I didn't hear you right.
Then?
When you look confused?
I will ask you what you said again and continue to look like I don't understand what you are implying.
This generally removes the wind from any cock holster's sails... but just in case you are willing to continue?
I will resort to making you explain in detail exactly what you mean.
No one ever does.
No one.
They turn red and walk away.
Point for Krissy.
Jack off, zero.

I hardly mention all of the awesomeness encountered at the bar - but so you know?
I definitely remember you guys. 

More bitching tomorrow - Because it's just been that kind of weekend. 

06 May 2012

And still...It's worth it.

"Do you know how to make [insert trendy bullshit drink here].
No, no I do not. I'm gonna give you credit for at least knowing what is in your drink, unlike, you know... this guy, however, simply telling me that it has vodka, blue shit, sweet and sour and cherry bacardi and a partridge in a pear tree isn't going to get you the drink you want. 
If you want a drink just exactly like that one you had that one time that the one bartender served you in that one bar... go find her and fucking ask her the measurements.
Otherwise I will throw all the shit you just named into a glass and call it good.
Furthermore, drink a normal fucking drink. 
What the Hell is wrong with you?
What do you mean it's supposed to look like blood in the water?
And you want to drink it?
You're fucked up.

Similarly, "I don't know the name of it...but it has tequila and orange juice and something else and it tastes just like something or another....
Google "tequila" , "cocktails" "orange juice"...
"About 1,790,000 results (0.37 seconds)"
Yeah, that's why I am giving you that go to Hell and die look right now.
But, if you really, really want me to?
I'll mix you some bullshit that you can torture some future bartender with.

You want your tab?
Right now.
Absolutely need it right this second.
And then? For some fucking reason?
You are distracted by your buddy and I am standing in front of you, waiting for you to sign the goddamn thing or pull the money out for ten fucking minutes.
Suddenly, you are in no hurry.
No hurry at all.
You're a jackoff.
Knock that shit off. 

"Just keep them coming!"
Nope.
Because the minute I bring you a drink that you did not specifically order?
You are not going to want it and I will either have to pay for it or listen to your bullshit about how you shouldn't have to pay for it because you didn't order it.
Dip shit.

Again, use an ashtray for your cigarette butts.
I mean really, I appreciate that you don't want to throw them on the floor - but really?
If you put them in a bottle or in a cup?
I dump the cup or bottle and then have to pick wet tobacco and butts out of the sink so that it will drain.
It's just fucking gross.

Also?
If you chew tobacco?
ASK ME FOR A SPIT CUP!
Because when I dump your bottle in the sink and realize it's full of your chewed tobacco and saliva?
I really, really...really want to hit you with the bottle.
I mean fucking really.
Picking that nasty shit out of the sink is a million times worse than picking gum out of ashtrays.
Jack off.

"I need a shot. Of something strong. I don't care what it is."
Okay...
Bet you'll care what it is next time, won't you?

"Ummm. Well what do you have for imports?"
Beer.
Fuck you.

What makes it worth it?
Bar quotes of the day, mostly.
For example, just last night I overheard the following conversation:

[ Some dumb shit about going to school and making bets with his friends on what grade he was going to get on his exam... "And guess what! I got an "A"!... Do you have any high school stories?"

I suspect the girl was thinking just about what I was thinking... which I probably don't need to say out loud.

She shrugged and said, "No. I went to PHS - just, you know, gang fights and drive-by shootings." 
I totally wanted to give her a gold star.

And then? Some guy fell asleep, er, passed out, on the bar.
Okay by me, until it's time to go. I tried to wake the guy up for about 45 minutes, clapping and shouting and trying to explain that the cab was on its way and I needed his address.
Guy raises his head, eyes still closed and tells me that he's fine.
I tell him he obviously is not - because his fucking eyes are closed and it's hard to drive that way.
Guy puts his head back down.
Umm. Okay.
Twenty or fourty minutes later, another patron says to the sleeping Guy,
"Hey. Guy? Do you need a hug over there?"
And fucking BOOM.
Guy is wide the fuck awake and remembering his name and address and blood type again.
He even remembers to leave a tip when he stumbles outside a few moments later.

Shit like that is what makes bartending worth the bullshit.
Well, and the money.
The money and the entertainment value.
You don't get to experience these things at a normal job.