:: Life on Planet Dan-E ::

:: Happy Thanksgiving! ::

It's been a long year but despite it all, I have plenty to be thankful for. Sure I have my friends, being employed and all but there's other stuff

- My guitar Lill-E.
- Air conditioning.
- U2's new album.
- The new kitchen knives I bought this year.
- Looking ahead.
- My adorable cat.
- My relatively high alcohol tolerance (unless I'm trying to get drunk).
- It's November and warm, which mean hot latin girls still wearing midriffs.
- The Lakers
- Many, many more things not the least of which, my favorite bourbon:

But I'm thankful for you, the few loyal readers I have left. I have no idea who many of you are (and please introduce yourself I you've never done so, and if it's been a while since your last comment, just say "hi") but if you're still here, thanks for sticking around. I hope you have many things to be grateful for as well. Happy Thanksgiving.

Labels: bourbon, thanksgiving, whiskey

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 11:19 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: I'm not an Alkie ::

... I'm not a drunk either. At least not at this moment.

I like joking about being a drunk sometimes but compared to many of my friends whose topics of discussions sometimes contain references to D.U.I.s and "blacking out," I'm a Monk.

(Okay, bad example.)

But granted I occasionally have my own reasons for concern. Not so much that my 215lbs can absorb a freakish amount of alcohol. I do go through my share of beer (and the occasional bottle of wine) but every now and then I wonder if I should be going through whisk[e]y as quickly as I do.

I usually buy whisk[e]y by the 1.75ltr bottles when they're on sale at the local liquor store (be it Jack Daniels, Wild Turkey, Jameson's, etc) but it takes a while for me go through. I don't drink it daily, and I can often go months without touching my "good stuff" but when I do drink some Jack or Turkey, I might go through a large amount in one night.

Well, there's a few reasons that might be bad: if you have a long day where you feel like you just got the shit kicked out of you, you need more than "a drink". Also, my favorite whiskey glass has a slight snifter-like curve in it towards the top so it's almost acts like a functional "tasting glass" (despite the fact that I own an actual whiskey tasting glass, and yes, it makes a difference.) I do the standard "two finger pour" with a couple of ice cubes.

It may seem okay but here's the thing: I have thick fingers, so my two-finger pour tends to be more than most guy's two-finger pour. Also, my favorite glass has a rather wide base, so my two-finger pour in my favorite glass tends to be greater than the typical two or three ounce pour you might get at a bar. It's also a problem if you have three or four in a night (umm, such as like, right now).

So I should be a lot more drunk than I am now but I'm not (this shit's 90 proof for crying out loud, and I also had some beer). Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't go for a drive at all (if I owned a car, or for that matter had anywhere to go) but at the same time, I can't honestly confirm if I'm actually drunk. I'm not making any more typos on this post than normal and I can still walk from here to the bathroom or kitchen without bumping into things or knocking something over. SportsCenter highlights still make prefect sense. This post is still rather coherent and I know better than to make some phone calls or send texts right now.

Then again, I think what keeps from being a raging alkie is the simple fact that my palate can't tolerate cheap crap. I'm not an alcoholic, not just because I'm not trying hard enough, but because my budget won't allow it.

Labels: alkie, Beer, booze, drinking, whiskey

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 2:18 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: Happy St. Patrick's Day! ::

Enjoy your St. Paddy's day. Just do yourself a favor and stay away this putrid crap. Seriously.

You're better off sticking to Ireland's most famous beer.

A nice Black 'n Tan is appropriate as well.

And if you're a raging alkie fan of hard liquor like me, this is some of the best Irish Whiskey around.

Labels: alkie, Beer, drunk, guinness, whiskey

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 1:58 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: Happy Thanksgiving ::

The holidays kinda snuck up on me this year. I say this all the time but I really can't believe that it's already holiday season. I guess I've had a lot going on, which I suppose is a good thing. I hope your Thanksgiving is a good one. Enjoy some turkey. I know I will.

Labels: bourbon, thanksgiving, turkey, whiskey

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 12:12 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: Server Stories: Bottle Service ::

Maybe it's because I'm not a clubber and don't earn a six-figure salary but I think bottle service is a huge waste of money. $240 on a bottle of vodka that I can get for $26 at the liquor store? No thanks, even if I'm splitting between six people.

But if you're with friends and you plan on getting drunk it sort of makes sense. For example, a shot of top-shelf vodka would cost you about $15 at your average South Beach club or restaurant. A martini upcharge is usually around $2. Inebriation usually takes place around the third to fifth shot, depending on your tolerance (and if you're doing other drugs). That's anywhere from $45 to $60 not including tip. But if you're with other vodka drinkers, it'll probably cost less per person and the 1 liter bottle will probably provide a bit more booze overall.

As a waiter, cocktail server, or bartender, you love to sell this because once you set up the person with the bottle, ice, and mixers (juice, soda, coke, etc.) your job is pretty much done since it's up to the customer to pour themselves a glass with however much ice and mixers as they see fit.

I sold my first bottle - Johnnie Walker Black Label - last night to an eight top of hip, young Latins on top of the all the food they ordered. Working at a pool house (where the night's tips are collected into a pool and distributed proportionately among the floor staff), everyone else was giving me high fives or "good job" slaps on the back.

Now, JW Black is a scotch I enjoy quite a bit and being a drunk connoisseur fanatic, I drink whiskey neat, in a snifter with nothing but a few drops of water, or at most a couple of ice cubes. So I shook my head when I saw that these guys were filling their tumblers to the brim with ice, and then watering it down with, well, water. But hey, if you want to overpay for a good scotch only to dilute it to a bland, savorless liquid, that's your business.

How much exactly? $275, not including tax and tip. Last weekend I paid $28 for my bottle. Granted, they drank a 1-liter bottle while mine was a mere 750ml. But at least I don't have to share mine with five other guys.

Labels: alkie, server stories, stupid customers, whiskey

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 2:12 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: That Sucked ::

After suffering through mediocre seasons from my Dodgers and abject misery from my 49ers, my Lakers gave me some hope this season that I'll finally witness something that won't make bitter and depressed.

We started strong.

We made a ridiculously one-sided trade in the real, professional sports world that made every wonder how the hell we pulled that off. (If someone even attempted this in a Fantasy League it would be automatically rejected and cause profanity-laced diatribes on the message boards for weeks)

Kobe finally won his MVP.

The Lakers cruised through the playoffs into a finals bout with the Celtics that revitalized the historic feud that peaked and died in the 80s.

The Celtics won the first two games, which was okay because good teams are supposed to win their home games. The Lakers did so in Game 3. We were going to have a good series.

And then THIS happened.

Good thing I was working tonight because even though it was deader than the nerve endings on Briana Bank's vulva, it was less painful than watching this game. If I watched this at a sports bar, I'd have been kicked out for unruly behavior including - but not limited to - excessive shouting, breaking stuff, hurling glasses, and punching anyone wearing green. (And this is the kind of place where coke deals go down in the patio, so you have to really do some dumb shit to get booted.)

If I watched this at home, my TV, tennis racket, various glasses, and several empty bottles of beer would be broken (kinda like my will to live at this point) and the relatively new bottle of Jameson's (1.75) would be drained.

I'm only slightly exaggerating.

As it is now, I'm going to finish my (pint)glass of whisky and stop typing before I really write something I'll regret. If my Lakers lose this series, I'm going to punch myself in the stomach, slam my head against the stove while it's lit, and then hurl my body in front of a bus after I light it on fire. Then once my soul leaves my battered corpse, I'm going to reach out, grab that soul, pull it back down, rip off my charred arm and beat the soul to death with that arm.

If you think I'm being melodramatic, you need to know that we were up by TWENTY FOUR POINTS.

Labels: anger, basketball, drinking, lakers, please just shoot me, sports, threw up in my mouth, whiskey

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 2:13 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: Happy St. Patrick's Day! ::

Have a few of these.

I'm also going to treat myself to a little of this.

Labels: alkie, Beer, drinking, guinness, whiskey

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 11:54 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: Sounds about Right ::

Your Candy Heart Says "Get Real"

You're a bit of a cynic when it comes to love. You don't lose your head, and hardly anyone penetrates your heart. Your ideal Valentine's Day date: is all about the person you're seeing (with no mentions of v-day!) Your flirting style: honest and even slightly sarcastic What turns you off: romantic expectations and "greeting card" holidays Why you're hot: you don't just play hard to get - you are hard to get

What Does Your Candy Heart Say?

I may be a cynic about my own love life but I'm happy for people who are able to find what I haven't. If you're in a relationship, I wish you much happiness, and not just for today but.

BUT for you fellow single readers out there who either dread or are indifferent to today's proceedings, let's celebrate National Singles Awareness Day together. It's for real! There's even a card! Later tonight, pour yourself your favorite drink have a drink with me. As for me, I'm gonna pour myself a good-sized shot of good scotch (I prefer a good Islay scotch but I finished that bottle last Thanksgiving. I do have an excellent bourbon but I'm gonna save that for when I might actually have female company... which means I'll never drink it) and sip it while watching "Caddyshack."

What are you going to be drinking?

Labels: alkie, drinking, online quizzes, rants, whiskey

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 1:28 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: Job Search: Day 1 ::

Today was my first job hunt in about two years and considering just how well it went the last time I wasn't really expecting much.

After I got home last night, I sat in my chair for a minute, still a little numb. Oddly, I wasn't worried about my finances or my living situation as much as I was wondering what The Hostess is going to think once she arrives at work and discovers I was fired. Stupid, right?

Anyway, I snap out of it, and start typing out last night's post. It's about 7:20 and I decide to go play some tennis to blow off some steam. So far, my mental state has gone from shock (I'm fired? Over that?) to denial (they'll call me in a couple of days because they'll be short-staffed) to acceptance (whatever, I'll be fine. I started hating that place anyway). But while walking to the park, acceptance slowly boiled into fury (if they're going to fire me over that shit, fuck them). During warm-ups my first few forehands flew to the back of the fence without bouncing. As much as I tried, I couldn't get that day's events out of my head and it got to me. Bad shots seemed that much worse, near misses didn't seem close, and even my good points made me angrier (why can't you play like that all the time you hack?) It's a miracle I never had an ulcer. Oddly enough, that anger seemed to fuel my inner Federer and I actually played well, considering.

I come home and take an extra-hot shower hoping it would clear my head. I sat at my desk, opened up my resume and begin updating it. I finish, move on to the cover letter, finish that, and head over the Kinkos. Then I check out Craigslist for any possible leads. An Open House at the Raleigh Hotel looks promising. It starts at noon, which is perfect. It's located up on Collins and 18 and after, I can make my way down Lincoln Road and see who’s hiring. I'll grab a New Times (new issue every Thursday) on the way over and see what they have in the back.

I leave and walk briskly towards Washington. Two blocks away, I realize I forgot to bring a pen. I don't remember if I wrote about this, but many times at my last job, applicants would often walk in asking for about work in less than professional attire. Many times they wouldn't even have their own pen, and several waiters took the liberty make a note on the application regarding that error. I never did that but I found it annoying.

And now here I am without a pen.

I stop by LeeAnn drugs and buy a nice Pilot rollerball and it was the best $2.50 I spent in a while. Once at the Raleigh, I walk up to the counter and ask about the Open House. The desk clerk gets a pained look on his face and tells me that someone other than the hotel posted the ad as a prank and that there is no Open House. Okay, what the FUCK. "Are you still hiring?" "Yes, you can fill out an application and someone from human resources will review them." Fine. I take my application outside and fill it out in the patio, enjoy the warm weather and the cool breeze, while wondering what the hell my immediate future holds. When I walk back inside, the lobby is filled with applicants and the poor clerk's look went from pained to constipated. I staple my cover letter, resume, and application together and turn it in, then turn to the lobby to get a look at my "competition." It's mostly guys, and most of them showed up wearing jeans and T-shirts, and a few are sporting caps. I only notice two other who brought separate resumes. There are a couple of girls, one who's dressed professionally, and another who looks like she's about to clubbing, sporting some very nice cleavage. It's then I think to myself, "maybe I'll be okay."

The only thing I've had so far that day was some grapes and a can of Rockstar. I'm more thirsty than hungry so I go to Burger King to with my New Times, grab a soda, and see what's available. There's a few promising leads and I tear out the pages and head to stop number two.

Number two is another Hotel on James Ave. Their only opening is for a part-time bartender, but I apply anyway. Nothing remarkable about that place except this: when I walk into their spacious lobby, it's filled with women. Attractive women. Hot women. Everywhere. And I'm the only dude. I've had dreams like this. The least pretty would rate as "yeeaaah, give me two drinks and I'd do her" while the hottest rated as "I would drag my balls through a firepit just to hump her shadow." I don't know what they were doing there (other than the fact that maybe God hates me... I don't even know what that means) but I focus on my task at hand. I get an application, fill it out, attach my papers, and walk out. As I'm walking out, I notice a bleach-blonde Latin chick looking at me. When we make eye contact, she smiles and I smile back... and I almost walk into the doorframe. Smooth, Dan-E. Very Smooth. You idiot.

The next stop would be the most fruitful. It's at another hotel on Collins, and unlike the Raleigh, their Open House ad was legit. I'm there five minutes early and grab an application, but the guy doesn't show up until about 2:40. In the meantime, I'm chatting up a couple of girls who are also there to apply. There's a friendly blonde that seems promising (so much for focus) and I'm making progress until the interviewer finally shows up. Asshole. He turns out to be a friendly enough guy. At first it's only four of us so he does group interviews. My first question is what goes into a Long Island Iced Tea (vodka, gin, rum, tequila, a splash of sour mix and coke, lemon wedge garnish... but I forgot the Triple Sec. I don't know why but I always forget the Triple Sec.) He asks me to make the ultimate margarita (2oz. of a good, Añejo tequila, fresh juice of two limes, 1oz. Gran Marnier; on the rocks with a salt rim. You need a salt rim. Don't argue with me.) Suddenly, our foursome triples in number and he sits us all down and addresses us all on what the company is doing, and what he expects of us. He'll does a quick one-on-one with us, and the blonde goes first. I'm next. We go through my job history, he asks if my name is really spelled "Dan-E," and a few other things about serving and bartending. I guess he likes me enough that he tells me he'll call on Saturday to let me know when I can start training.

SCORE!

I'm stoked. I shake his hand vigorously, and I walk away with a big smile. Awesome. Hired on the spot. It was about 3:15 when that happened and it's when Gay Wingman finally wakes up and calls me to ask how I'm doing. I tell him what happened and he's happy for me.

Not much else happens at the other places I apply at. I stop by an Italian place, a sports bar, a regular bar, and a beer and wine bar. Once I reach Alton Road and head towards home, I check my phone, which I kept on "silent" the whole time.

Remember my buddy, who offered me a job as a supervisor and works at an Irish tavern? I called him the night before just to ask him if he had any openings. He left a couple of texts, saying no promises, but I'll see what's available. When it's all said and done, he ended up telling his boss about me, and she wants to meet me. And now I have an interview tomorrow at noon at his restaurant.

This is awesome. It's nice to have options. Though if I end up working a the Irish place, I'll have to buy this guy a beer. Or maybe a bottle Jack Daniels. Whatever, he's good people. We'll have to wait till the weekend to see what happens. I can't wait.

Labels: bartending, cheeseburger, job search, moving on, the gay wingman, waiting, whiskey

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 12:01 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: Server Stories: Girls and Whiskey ::

It was a pretty slow Wednesday night. I got to work at five and I didn't get my first table until almost six-thirty. It was a four-top of some young-looking kids that were in town with daddy's credit card. As they walk in I notice the petite, sandy-blonde chick wearing a low-cut dress showing off her nice set of personalities. My buddy Chuck and the new guy walk over next to me and admire the talent as she takes her seat. I walk up to the table ask them for their drink order first and everyone gets soda or iced tea except for the sandy blonde, who orders Jack Daniels on the rocks.

I raise my eyebrows and I look at her for a moment before I ask for her I.D. She digs it out of her purse and hands it to me. She turned 21 three months ago. Girls her age who try too hard to be precocious usually stick of Cosmopolitans or some vodka mix (and it's always either Grey Goose, Kettle One, or Belvedere). But Jack on the rocks...

Wow. Don't get me wrong. I like Jack Daniels. On the rocks or with Coke, it's a great whiskey. I'm an avowed bourbon drinker that also loves s good scotch and Irish Whisky(I'm not a fan of Canadian Whiskeys; Crown Royal is okay but everything else tastes like swill) but I'm 33 and I possess an iron palate. (The Gay Wingman once dared me into doing a Wild Turkey shot and I downed with no problem, whereas he went into convulsions, despite the fact that he's been drinking longer and harder than I ever had). Jack Daniels is similar to bourbon except it's made in Tennessee and has been filtered through sugar maple charcoal (imagine a gigantic Britta filter; it's called the Lincoln County Process), which imparts and a smoky sweetness you won't find in, say, Woodford Reserve. Regardless, drinking this stuff without a mixer takes either a strong tongue or years of drinking to develop a tolerance (in my case, both).

I hand her driver's license back, smile and say "nice pull." She smiles back at me and says quietly, "I've been doing this for a while." It's then I noticed that she owns not only a killer smile, but also a beautiful pair of hazel eyes that could potentially make powerful men starts wars to win her favor. I'm about to flirt with her except the guy sitting next to her suddenly slides right next her, puts his hand on her thigh, and says to me with a slightly raised voice, "can we start with some calamari?"

I pull myself out her eyes and walk over to the computer, being grateful that I’m wearing an apron. My buddy Chuck and the new guy are still checking out Hazel Eyes. After I run the drinks, I walk up to them and joke, "I think we got 'Miss Girls Gone Wild 2008' at my table." Chuck thinks it's funny while new guy just shakes his head and says, "Damn. She's fucking hot dawg. She show you her tits or something?"

"Nah. I mean, she's hot, but she's drinking Jack on the rocks."

"Aw damn."

"And... she turned 21 in November."

"For real?"

"Yeah."

"Like, last year?"

"Yeah."

"Aw, damn dawg. That's hot, That's fucking hot." (He says "dawg" a lot. And he's Brazilian.)

I chuckle. He's a good guy. He's only 28 but he's been married for four years already. He says he never has and never will cheat on his wife and I believe him since he'd tell me if he did, but it's clear he married too young and he still wants to sow his wild oats. (Then again, his wife is a beautiful English lass with blonde hair and a round ass and if anything like that was in love with me, I'd probably want to lock that down too.)

The calamari is done. He drops it off at the table and walks past me, shaking his head and says "damn." I smile. I sorta know how he feels. Assuming she was single, he can't have her because he's married. I can't have her because... well... I have my own neurosis I need to work through.

Gay Wingman walks up and he wonders what the three of us are talking about. Chuck points out Hazel Eyes and even the gay guy is like "wow, she is hot." He nudges me and says "you need to go talk to her right now."

"Dude, she's with her boyfriend."

"Oh honey, he's a dumb jock that still wears his cap backwards. You're way smarter than that meathead is and, oh my gawd, his shoes are just awful."

He's sober. It's not unusual for him to have a drink or three before a shift but he's sober right now. I just look at him and nod. "I'm serious. Even if you don't get her number, you need to go make an impression and show her she can do better than that jock."

"Dude, shut up."

"You're fabulous honey. You need to get that out there more. We need to get you out there more. And she also likes that brown liquor."

I smile. I don't have a response to that but other than the "fabulous" part, he might be right. Alcoholic tendencies and loquacious ramblings aside, he just might have a point.

They finish their dinner and pay. They leave while I'm standing near the entrance talking to the host. When they walk by, the boyfriend ignores me but Hazel rubs my arm as she walks past and says good night. I smile back and say "I'll see you again soon." I grab the check. The boyfriend paid and left a crappy tip.

I don't care. I'm in a good mood for the rest of evening.

Labels: big ass, boobs, girls, server stories, the gay wingman, waiting, whiskey, whoa

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 12:56 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: The Reason Behind my Resolution ::

I don't go out drinking often but when I know it's gonna happen, I usually load up on food so I get a nice buzz, while everyone around me is wondering why the ceiling fan is still while the room is spinning. (And I don't have to worry about a DUI since I don't own a car.) I might start with a couple of glasses of whiskey (or whisky) on the rocks, followed by a couple of beers (and maybe a couple more). If you remember this post, I can put away a decent amount of alcohol, though that tolerance only comes after eating a large amount of food.

After working New Year's Eve, a few of us went out for drinks at this bar next to our restaurant, where we're friends with their staff and they hook us up with discounted booze. I ate some chicken piccata beforehand but I wasn't sure if it would be enough to ward off the drunkenness. I was enjoying my night with some pool and bar chatter, until one of my co-workers decided to order us a round of Jäger shots and Heineken chasers. I normally hate Heineken but who am I to refuse a drink, right?

Unfortunately, I stuck with whiskey that night and they served it in larger-than-normal tumblers and went easy on the ice so by the time the Jäger shots came around, I was feeling pretty good. What happened after that was a blur.

I vaguely remember some large woman hitting on me and my buddy telling me, "you even try to go home with her and I'll punch you in the face." "Why?" "It'll keep you from going home with that beast." "I was just talking to her." "Yeah, whatever. Shut up and drink your beer."

I somewhat remember some greasy looking Latin guy constantly staring at me. Probably because of my long hair and apparently, Latin guys think long hair belong on women only. He did this for a few minutes before I got sick of his stare and I walked up to his face (with a pool stick in one hand) and asked very gently, "why the fuck are you staring at me?" He recoiled slightly. (I was literally six inches from his face, partly because the music was really loud and I wanted to make sure he heard me. Which was stupid because I didn't even know if this guy spoke English.) He simply put his hands up and said "sorry mang."

There were a couple of other things that I really don't care to talk about. However, this is what happened the morning after:

I woke up to my phone alarm blaring a few inches from my head. At first I wondered where I was. I figured out I was in my apartment but only after realizing that it looked different because I was lying in my bed backwards.

My clothes were in a small pile on the floor next to my shoes, yet I still had my socks on. I smell cigarettes, which is weird since I don't smoke. I turns out to be my hair, which is lying across my neck. Even though I had my hair down all night, I woke up wearing a ponytail and I don't remember when I put it up. Luckily, I still had my boxer briefs on.

I laid in bed for a moment to recall the pervious night (and because I left my legs next to the door) when my alarm goes off again. I hit the snooze button and I look to see what time it is. I'm not sure why but I set my alarm to go off at 3:19pm. When exactly did I set my alarm and why 3:19pm? I lay my head back to figure this out when ten minutes later, it goes off again, and I suddenly realize I have to at work in 90 minutes.

I drag my ass out of bed to the bathroom, where I think I smell Jack Daniels somewhere; only it's just me peeing. I limp to my fridge, chug a can of Monster energy drink, take a shower, and pound another Monster while my hair dries.

Once I get to work, I’m treated to sorry sight of waiters and bartenders in various states of hangovers. (Except for the one bartender who was fine since all he did was smoke pot all night. Yeah, that one.) I find the guy who ordered the Jäger shots and tell him to never order that shit again. His reply?

"I bought Jäger shots? When did I do that? I don't remember that! Are you sure it was me?"

Yeah, you were the one told me to get my ass over to the bar to do shots. Just before you told me to stay away from that one chick who was hitting on me. Remember?

"No."

You don't?

"I remember you walking up to some guy with a stick like you were about beat him to death with it."

Oh that. "Yeah." I wasn't going to kill him. I just didn't like the way he was looking at me.

"Whatever. I was sure you were gonna kill him because you had that look on your face again."

I did? [Pause.] Whatever. No more Jäger.

"I'm okay with that."

Labels: alkie, drinking, drunk, I'm an idiot, regrets, whiskey

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 11:51 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: Happiness is... ::

... going to Walgreens and discovering they have Johnnie Walker Black gift sets - 750ml bottle plus two very sturdy whiskey tumblers - for only $25.

Labels: alkie, drinking, NaBloPoMo, whiskey

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 11:15 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: Server Stories: Barman ::

I've been working behind the bar a couple of times a week, which is good, except it's always during the day shift, which... it isn't bad but it's not always great. When we're busy, I get the bar experience that I like, juggling bar customers and the service bar since there's only two of us during the day. On days where it's slow, I'm behind the bar making idle chatter with whoever's working the floor. (That or I'm contemplating where in my life did it all go wrong.) Days like that, where we have maybe two tables (six people walk between 11:30am - 4:00pm, and two of those are people asking for job applications) I try to keep myself busy by pre-prepping drinks, reading bar manuals, and if it's Sunday, watching football. It's that or I go next door and take a nap or I grab a bottle of whiskey and start drinking heavily. Lucky for me, my body doesn't seem like alcohol before 5:00pm so drinking on the job isn't an option. (That and I enjoy this whole "employment" thing since it allows me to like, pay rent and buy stuff.)

Still, when we're busy and we get tourists who like to drink it gets fun for me. I enjoy cooking and making drinks is like cooking with liquids. I remember a shift a few weeks ago where it seemed every customer was drinking. I was whipping up margaritas, sourapple martinis, mojitos, and a couple of tequila sunrises and even though we were busy, I never got in the weeds. Right up until an English couple sits at my bar and asks for a "Singapore Sling."

A what?

"Singapore Sling? Can you make that?” He could guess from the look on my face that I didn't know what the hell that was. He wasn't sure either, other than there was gin in it. Lucky for me, I had the Bartender's Guide right there and found it quickly. We didn't have any cherry brandy so I probably shouldn't have tried but the poor guy seemed really set on his Sling so I made it with extra grenadine and gin and hoped the guy wouldn't know any better. Sure enough, he and his wife took a sip, smack their lips, looked at me and said, "well that's bloody fantastic. Cheers."

I'm at awe how some bartenders are able to remember so many recipes. Granted 80% of the orders at the bar are either beer, wine, something on the rocks, or some type of mixed drink like Jack and Coke or gin and tonic. I've worked with guys who can whip something up in no time even though they haven't made it in months. And sure enough, 15 minutes later, an older couple walk in and ask for a a couple of Old Fashioneds. Easy enough. "What bourbon would you like?" "Do you have Maker's Mark?" "Of course." I whip up two Old Fashioneds and they also seemed quite happy with their drinks. I overpoured just a tad (on accident, of course) as there's some left in the shaker so I sample it. Eh. It must be an acquired taste. I like Maker's Mark neat but mixing it with sugar, aromatic bitters, orange and a marachino cherry just doesn't do it for me. But I'm clearly in the minority since the Old Fashioned has been around longer than the martini.

Just before I go on my break agroup of four guys walk in and ask for a "Royal Flush."

Huh?

"It's Crown Royal and Peach Shnapps." I make their shot, they slam it, and leave. At least these guys knew what went in it.

Labels: bartending, drinking, NaBloPoMo, server stories, waiting, whiskey

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 3:30 AM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: Server Stories: Promotion Follow-up ::

Remember my post from Monday about my friend who's working as a manager at the? Well I just found out Tuesday from a mutual friend that he isn't there any more. As it turns out, new ownership took is taking over and a lot of his superiors were getting fired and new people were being brought it and while his job may have been safe, he didn't care for the relative lack of stability. He ended up taking an old friend's offer to manage and bartend at their restaurant.

I went to visit him there, which turned out to be a nice little Irish Bar/Restaurant. It's perfect for him since he's full Irish, has a healthy drinking habit, and he gets to both manage the floor and bartend a couple of nights week. Best of all, he doesn't have to wear a suit or a nametag. I read some great reviews about their food, so I ordered their fish and chips, which were excellent, and washed it down with a couple of perfectly poured pints of Guinness (I expect nothing less from him). I noticed their impressive whiskey selection and he poured me a glass of 10-year old scotch called Talisker (neat), which was outstanding. (Scotch back for your Guinness, Dan-E?) It’s definitely a place I’ll be going back to.

Anyway, he seems to be doing well and even though he's only been there for a week, he's really enjoying it. Plus he gets the nights that he wants (he's literally the only service guy I know that wants Friday AND Saturday off) and it's two blocks from his condo. I'm happy for him; he's a good guy and things are working out. As for the job offer? It never came up. I'm ok with where I am and I need to focus on finding me real job anyway.

Labels: Beer, drinking, NaBloPoMo, server stories, waiting, whiskey

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 11:02 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
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:: Everyone now... ::

I went to a friend's birthday party this week that started at an all-you-can-eat Brazilian BBQ place and eventually moved to s bar in Downtown Miami. Like St. Patty's day I'll give you rundown of the damage incurred:

• About 3 pounds of meat (steaks, chicken, pork, sweetbread, sausages, etc)
  
• 2 glasses of house red
• 4 Jack and diet cokes
• 1 Guinness
• 3 Yeunglings
• 3 High Lifes
• A shot of Glenfiddich (or it could have been Glenlivet... I don't remember)

All over the span of about 5 hours. And no, I didn't have a hangover, though I was a little tired from an uncomfortable night's sleep on a friend's couch.

A running joke among a few friends: "If you're an alkie and you know it, clap your hands!"

*CLAP* *CLAP*

Labels: alkie, Beer, drinking, whiskey

:: Miscellaneous Ramblings by Dan-E at 10:09 PM [+] :: | 0 comments
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