Monday, January 12, 2009

now with initials

I feel like I want to write something but I have nothing to write. In cases such as this, I’ll go over the things I’ve done; mentally crossing off every item as a bore.

I made pizza dough for some future date.
I baked bread.
I ate bread.
I delivered bread.
I went to the bar on a Sunday.
I had Bass Ale.
I moved snow.


Going to the bar was part of delivering bread. When I walked in the bartender said, “I didn’t know you got out on any other day than Friday.” The place was quiet, when I walked in there was an eighty year old regular, two guys I didn’t recognize, a night manager having nachos which the bartender was sharing with him, and then the staff that was working which included a waitress and a day manager, in addition to the KF the bartender.

Often Sundays can be like hanging out in someone’s living room, if you’re a regular. I used to be there frequently on Sundays; I stopped when a bartender friend was no longer a bartender.

The KF asked what I was doing there; I didn’t know how to tell the truth without catching some grief so I just blurted it out and said I was waiting to meet one of her co-workers, JM. I then thought about explaining why I was meeting JM but I thought the reason I was there was even more damning.

I like KF, she’s smart and aware; but I often don’t get to see her. I’m not there like I used to be, often I’m only there on Fridays, just like she pointed out when I walked in.

I tried some charm and mentioned that I was happy to see that she was the one bartending but it only worked a little.

After awhile, the other bartender walked in and then a mutual friend of practically everyone there came in. The mutual friend, CM, was actually the reason I had left the house at all. She had me promise to share some homemade bread with her, which caused JM to make me promise that she would get some too.

I had already dropped off a baguette and a loaf of ciabatta to CM at her house and after other some other plans got revised, meeting at the bar was the most convenient for JM.

After a couple drinks JM left, CM asked how long I was staying, “I don’t know, yet but I’m only sticking around because KF is here,” who was right there pouring a draft.

“Are you just saying that because we were fighting earlier?”

I smiled and put a puzzled look on and said “I didn’t know we were fighting earlier.” I then finished my forth beer and then asked for my bill.

“You can’t pay.”

“Why can’t I pay?”

“Because you have no bill.”

“Why do I have no bill?”

“Because someone paid it.”

“Who paid it?”

“JM”

“She paid it when you went to the men’s room,” CM said.

“Wait. That’s not fair. And you knew about it?”

“Yes, and it is fair. You’re always doing things for other people so it’s only fair that some people are nice to you.”

I just shook my head as I counted out some money for a tip, I remembered JM asking the bartender if she had tipped enough and I thought it was odd because I thought JM had already settled up prior to me leaving my seat. So, I then realized that when I came back, the tip she was talking about was a second tip, a tip on my tab.

I folded my bills in half, lengthwise and placed them under the corner of the garnish station so the forced hot air vent wouldn’t blow them away.

“What’s that? Fifty bucks?,” CM asked. I answered that it wasn’t but then thought my fifteen dollars might be a little lacking despite all of my calculations. Fifteen would have been more than what my tab should have been, if you weren’t counting the extra unwanted beer from an over-pour, which I was told I could have. For some reason I thought leaving twenty bucks would be too much, I felt that it would sort of be disrespectful to JM’s gesture if I were to leave what my bill should have been plus my usual tip. If I had done that, I felt that if would be like re-gifting JM’s generosity to KF. I didn’t think that was the right thing to do, especially when there would be witnesses.

The bill was paid and a tip was left even before any of my money was placed on the bar, most of my gratitude was due JM not KF; fifteen bucks on a four beer tab is about a 50 percent tip, which I think is generous but not crazy, considering.

I have a complicated tipping formula; there is a minimum and a maximum, unless it’s a special occasion, I tip on the value of the drinks I get as opposed to what I’m charged because I get oversized drinks and quite a few of then are free. I shoot for over thirty and under fifty percent. If I think my normal tipping routine isn’t sufficient, I’ll supplement it with gifts cards and the like.

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