I drink all the classics

I’m slowly organizing my life. I can no longer just take life as it comes; I no longer have time for doing that.

Sunday I was downtown and watched a basketball player transcend his playing level. My plan was to drop by for two beers but she asked if I like Bloody Marys and then, my plan went out the window. I got there at two thirty and would end up leaving five hours later.

She pulled out a chart of mixed drinks from some bartending school. I only got half way down the front side before I switched back to beers.
I hadn’t been counting what I was actually served so I just doubled whatever the bill was she put in front of me after I asked her to close my tab out before she started splitting tips. She was serving me doubles and charging for regular drinks and not all of them were getting rung up. “Your tips are ridiculous,” she said as she put all of my change in front of me. “Your service is ridiculous,” I counted as I put the bills on the bar runner.

After her shift, she can out to my side of the bar and she sat three stools over. It was the only empty one. She was next to a regular who has a rather fragile ego. He likes to say that he’s a ‘Gold’ customer but he always adds that I’m a ‘Platinum.’ I think when you start grading your worth at the local bar you’re a bit of a loser. I’m sure he took it as a victory that the bartender sat next to him. I was content to let him have his day but when the regular to my left got up to use the men’s room she changed her seat.

I turned to look at the TV that hangs from the ceiling on the right and smiled a little as I pretended to reaffirm the final score that I reaffirmed eight times already. The C’s still won in seven games and the Sox won too.

When it was time, she started to say her goodbye’s from the far left, shaking hands with the guys. When she finished with me, I got a handshake too and then a kiss on the cheek. I smiled then too, being careful not to make eye contact with any fragile egos. That poor guy doesn’t stand a chance.