Tales From The Bar March 1st 2007

little black bar duck

It’s been slow on Thursday nights even though we’re supposed to be hosting a pool league. They’re not exactly – team oriented. We’re supposed to be their practice facility but they almost never show up. Won’t they be surprised when they come in to play on Saturday and there’s a loud band playing where their pool table used to be?

Last night a patron came in that I hadn’t seen in a few months. We’ll call him Jochen. Jochen is German and older, and a bit of a flirt. After several beers many nights back, he took out his keys, held them to his chest and said I had unlocked his heart. He’s “never seen no one like me before” (to paraphrase his wonderful broken English) and we should get together when I’m not working.

As far as he’s concerned, I will be working forever.

Last night he tells me that “Sex is Sport”. He followed that up with some stuff I either didn’t catch or didn’t understand, due to the music in the bar and his low tones, but the gist of it was we should play the hook up game because all the kewl kids are doing it – even the married ones. *sigh* Usually telling someone you’re married is like saying, “the only time my herpes doesn’t bother me is when my leprosy flares up.” There are lots of personal space issues with Jochen. He likes to touch my hands, gloves really, since I always keep my hands covered, and he beckons me closer with a finger when I’ve backed off too much. I get that this is a European thing, this closeness, but I’m a Northern American, and unless you and I are actively having sex, like right now, I’d rather not be touched. I have to repress the urge to draw back my hand an hiss like a scalded cat. People are friendly when they drink and I have to learn to be friendly, even though I’m not drinking. This will be a work in progress.

It’s a line I tread when I dress for the bar. I need to be friendly, but not call girl friendly. I need to look nice but not slutty. Anyone who’s met me in person knows how hard this is. The main thing I’m avoiding is low cut and lots of cleavage, but still. Boobs. When people sit at the bar, guess what’s at eye level. I can’t help that, but I can at least try to not come off as – what – easy?

As he was leaving he says goodbye to my aunt, the other barmaid, with a big hug and he goes in for a kiss. She deftly dodges and tells him no, she hasn’t changed her mind. Clearly, he tries this “Sex is Sport” with everyone, figuring the odds will eventually be in his favor. Not in here.

There’s another older gentleman, we’ll call him EB, whom I absolutely adore but rarely see, perhaps due to the bitter weather. He used to work for Chrysler (I think) and at 86, he’s super spry and charming. One evening he picks up a round for the bar and says, “what do you owe me?”

This job is teaching me to be quick with a line, so with a big smile and big bright eyes I say, “My completely devotion and undivided attention.” Biggest tip of the night.

I’ll be working a few more nights a week at the bar to supplement my no-income lifestyle. I appreciate everything my uncle’s done for me, especially the having faith in me to run this band thing part.

First band night is this Saturday, March 3, 2007.

(Pardon the lug)

There’s a new band (currently without a name), Eudemonia, and Wyatt Hood. Bands go live at 8.

Cover is 21 and over – $3.00; 18-20 – $5.00.

The Chill and Mingle is located at 9735 Conant, Hamtramck.

Remember to tip your barmaid. She’s quick with a bottle opener.

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