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Wednesday, August 4, 2010

I get bad mood, you get funny story.

Last week was quite the challenge. The weekend pretty much just coasted by. Now this week (I know it’s only Tuesday) has sucked. I can’t seem to shake this sinus issue I have had for what seems like nine years and to kick things off Monday morning my son was sick. So for the past two days I have been caring for a sick kid, no ordinary sick kid though but the one who is immune-suppressed. This means that the fever he woke up with didn’t get Tylenol and a free pass to sleep it off, it won us an all day visit to our Children’s Hospital.

Enough. When I’m down and need a pick-me-up I usually find it by making others laugh. Easiest way to do that is just to dive in with a funny experience. Enjoy.

For many years I was a bartender. I worked for quite a while at this smokehouse restaurant/night club that has volley ball leagues, pool tables and some of the craziest people come through there that I have ever seen. This place was really cool. As a bartender in a couple places before there I thought I has seen most all. Nope.

One evening I was working at the main bar with two of my favorite co-workers. We weren’t that busy and were just shooting the shit to pass time. This guy walks over to my side of the bar (farthest from the restroom this time) sits down on a barstool and orders a Jack and Coke. No biggie. Four dollars. Back to my conversation. Don’t think for a second that I didn’t get a good look at this guy, a good bartender always does. He was tall and very thin, long stringy salt and pepper hair tied in a ponytail at the back of his neck, dark grey tee shirt with an eagle on it, tanned with a close cut beard also pretty grey. Oh, and he only had one arm.

He drinks only a third of his cocktail slides two bucks across the bar and says “Honey will you keep an eye on my seat?”. “You betcha”. I had turned my back to him for just a second to grab the ticket at the service bar and hear this loud crash. People are all standing where they were all seated half a second ago, commotion, and two of the bouncers are on the way over. This guy fell down. My bar back saw it when it happened and rushed over to help. Mr. Jack and Coke was flailing on his back like a bug. He was wide eyed and not making a sound but had his mouth open looking panicked. The bouncers were trying to help him up without much luck. It finally took three men to right him and they started to walk him to the men’s room, ironically his original destination.

I was upset. Freaking out upset. It looked to me like he was having a seizure. I couldn’t understand why the manager was just standing there instead of calling 911! “The men’s room?!?!? Why didn’t someone offer him a chair and wait for the paramedics?!?! Why did you move him in the first place?!?!?”. Then the manager said he needed to talk to me, he was grinning like a fool but I couldn’t imagine what for. We get to the office and he closes the door all but a crack and the smirk dropped off instantly. In this restaurant the manager’s office is right in the game room so we had privacy but anyone walking by could see in or hear us. He starts in on me. “How many did I serve him? Was it an honest four count pour? Did he appear intoxicated before I served him his drink?” He sternly went through the liability speech. I swore I was not in the wrong here and I was actually getting pretty pissed. Then he says with the utmost seriousness “Next time you plan on getting one of our patrons so drunk they can’t stand you better make sure they have a leg to stand on”. Huh?! “WHAT?!?!” Then he loses all composure, as did the eight or so people standing outside the door (who had seen and were in on it). This poor guy didn’t have any legs!!! He was amputated mid thigh on his left and below the knee on the right. He had fallen out of one of his prosthetics and literally could not get himself up off the floor. I defend myself with “I could see he had one arm but how was I to know he didn’t have any legs?”.  Sheesh! Good thing I can take it because I seem to be the butt of the joke a lot.  

My one armed friend came back to his seat after a bit and drank his drink, ordered another and left me another two bucks. Like nothing ever happened. I, on the other hand, had to listen to “your boyfriend One Arm Willy” jokes at my expense for another week.

Until I did something else dumb.           

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