To Feign a Coy Regret (subtitle: Bitching about Fifties)

Anyone who has been in the business of receiving and dispensing small sums of money can attest to this; if you work in hospitality/direct point of sales positions long enough, you begin to get pissed off at fifties. I am at the stage now where I merely see a glimmer of that bastard yellow plastic and I subtly begin reaching for the role of coins with which I intend to bludgeon the customer unconscious.

It would not be a problem, not a problem at all, if it was only one customer who dropped the fitty, or god forbid the hundy when purchasing something worth 'a buck fit'.

Customer comes to the bar:
“I’d like an OJ please.”
Nondescript, unbiased bartender happily supplies and replies:
“Sure, that’s a dollar thanks.”
Customer hands over fifty, feigning a coy regret:
“Sorry, I haven’t got anything smaller.”
Nondescript, now somewhat biased bartender states:
“That’s ok.. Not a problem at all.. but see that guy there... He’s thirsty, but unless he’s feeling generous and wants to pay $20 for his cup of OJ, I’m now unable to give him change you hideous chode, you knew you were coming here! I see you and your fifties every week! Did you just ASSUME we were a bank? I'm surprised it's in AU$ considering you obviously heir to the throne of Dumbfucklund! Take your drink before you need it to salve your wounds."

A trend is forming, the customers are adapting. Bastardry, it seems, evolves at an alarming rate. Patrons at my workplace are learning that once the drink is opened or poured, there’s little the bartender can do but waste the drink unless we sell it to them. This puts bartenders in the uncomfortable yet expected position of putting up with a certain level of shit to ensure payment is made and reduce stock wastage.

This includes but is not limited to:
+ Waiting until all the fucking 5 cents are counted and re-counting them,
+ Accepting barter such as watches, jewelry, livestock & ex-wives
and
+ Conjuring EFT machines from thin-fucking-air without proper reagents or consideration to the level of wizardry of the bartender.

Some bar clientele have become magicians, masters of the sleight of hand, when it comes time to pay. Folding the fifty up really tight, hiding it in their hand, crinkling the shit out of it. Some customers palm it to me like a bribe, others saying “what’s that behind your ear?” Others leave it in their wallet/purse until the very last moment then fuckin-tadaah!

I await the day, and it will eventually arrive, when payment is requested from a customer and I will be handed green origami. While knowing full well, the forced question will be; “What the shit is this?” the words already vividly haunting my dreams; “It’s a swan.” Then it begins, the familiar feelings of the deep, slow draw of cold air, my chest expanding to accommodate. The ambient commotion little by little fading out, sights haze to a dark blur. All the usual hallmarks experienced momentarily before the screams.

Look seriously, be nice to your bartender. If it’s a busy night and you’re waiting to be served, have your twennies or less ready. Count your change and know how much you have prior to service. Take any coins below fifty cents and PUT them UP your arse. If the bartendress has a nice ass and/or a great ‘rack’, please don’t tell her, she knows, silently smile, thanking her for the view and move on. If you’re single woman with a current proof of legal age and the bartender catches your eye, don’t write your number on the money, because he will have to take it, and that’s stealing. You will like him more when you’re both basking in the afterglow as employed friends with benefits.

Holy Bartender

Gimme… a Holy Bartender

Pre-ten-tious [pri-ten-shuhs] –adj., a) Characterized by assumption of dignity or importance. b) Making an exaggerated outward show.

I am not a holy man; in fact few things are more pretentious than someone referring to themselves as holy. It is in fact true that I am a bartender though. I am a barman who has found that with age comes a forever dwindling sense of modesty. Why be modest if you’re genuinely good at something. Few will blow your horn for you, therefore blowing it yourself is the only option. Personally, if I could blow my own horn, leaving the house would be a much harder decision in the morning. However I do enjoy having others blow my horn it must be said.

Pretty sure I will write however the hell I want to. In whatever style, perspective, genre or form I wish.

Holy Bartender,

Spewing great vitriol.

Entertainment.

Eat Haiku fools! Haiku are fun and challenging.. much like Sudoku for poets. I mean, my vocabulary needs to evolve a little more obviously, but the restriction put on you is fun in the beginning. It's like new jox, it may be a little uncomfy to begin with but eventually you adapt and all is right with the world.

Rabbit Runs,

Shotgun pepper mist.

Crimson snow glade.

So, my name sums up pretty much my thoughts about what this blog should be; truth wrapped up in an over exaggerated lie with the assumption of being important enough to be available for others to read.

The shit I spew here @ holybartender.blogspot.com is all entirely true. Except for that which is not. Except for all that is embellished, too outlandish, changed, re-biased, slanted, straightened, re-slanted and so forth. It will often be an exaggerated version of the truth. It will be entertaining, you will laugh, you will cry, it will change your life. If it isn’t, well it clearly wasn’t written for you so kindly off fuck.

The truth is an excuse for lack of imagination. There may be occasions that I lack imagination though.. hopefully you won't notice due to the 'boy-who-cried-wolf' effect and we'll all remain happy.

Holy Bartender

P.S. (Plugged Shamelessly)

Holy Bartender was originally coined in the Kevin Smith film Dogma. If you are yet to see it and are not drastically or extremist-ly offended by religious theme based comedy films then I highly recommend it. In the film, fallen angel Azrael, played by Jason Lee (awesome and funny in one actor, how does this happen…), requests a Holy Bartender. When the barman is unaware of how to make it, Azrael shoots him repeatedly. A dark joke I know, however moments later Jay, played by Jason Mewes, finally puts it together and laughs, the actual punch line in my opinion.