Tonight I thought my boss was dying. Not the Hulk, my other boss Norman, a co-owner of the business for 23 years. He's very good man, I knew him first as a friend and then he hired me. Norman's way older than the Hulk, he just turned 66. He's a big whitehaired bowl-cutted guy. I've always thought he looked like Dr. Zaius from "Battlestar Galactica". He has hired me, lent me money when I was in need, and flips me twenties on occasion when I make him a (weak-ass) drink. The yang to Hulk's yin, he is respectful and vocally complimentary with my job performance, at least within the last couple of years. Norman, whom, like most people I know, is not very kind to his body (myself included), is a good guy.

Alright, I'd already had a shitty couple of hours with some fuckers who must've gotten lost outside of the Pearl District (lesser story), and by 8:30 I'd had it. A bit of a rush starts happening, people are coming in and lining up. This is good. I'm all ready to finally make some money this week when I look to my right to see Norman, in the pass-thru area by the coffee, kind of stumbling with his cane and not functioning well at all. I'm not used to seeing this, as I've seen him make that pass-thru hundreds of times to retrieve his Marlboros from the back. Even after eight drinks he always makes it.

Not tonight. He's about to fall over right there. Norman's only had two very light drinks, he's not drunk. I yell for our Insane Cook Bobby. Bobby's huge and can support Norm's weight and I'm trying to make cocktails (big line now, 12-15 deep) and Bobby comes out and catches Norm just as he collapses. I look at Norm propped in the chair that we always take our smoke break in and I see Bobby lift his eyelids and it's all white, no iris or pupils at all. It's pretty fucked right now. I love Norm, his body's quitting. Bobby is holding him prone and yelling at him. I have to make a Lemon Drop. I yell for Hazel, wherever she is, while I'm shaking the drink.

Hazel arrives and starts yelling in his face and slapping him, no shit.

"NOME! NOME! GAW-DAMMIT! NOME! HAY!"

I mean, that's fine. She's a take charge kind of lady. I love her.

"NOME!" (smack!) "GAWDAMM YOU" (smack!)

I keep serving the throng and keep looking over periodically. Norman's slipping in and out. In the time it took you to read this since Hazel's arrival, I dial 911. Miraculously, they were there within four minutes.

Now everyone is asking what's going on. I can't blame them. I try to remember to breathe. I think I acted pretty calmly. I tell people I don't know what's happening and I ask "who's next in line, please?".

Lots of paramedics behind the bar. Pretty surreal looking scene. They ask "Who's in charge here?". I guess Hazel is? It takes them a while to load Norman onto the stretcher, he's a pretty big fella. They wheel him out. In and out of it, he just shakes his head "no" as they exit, Norm sitting upright in the stretcher. He doesn't want to go to the hospital again. Medicaid only covers so much.

Tags: norman, yelling

Some thoughts...

"I don't know about you guys, but that whiskey stuff should be outlawed! You don't have to be an Irishman to 'get stuck knee-deep in ol' Eire's wake', y'know!......Who should come tonight in but a buddy of mine, stands 6' 6 1/2". He's so drunk he hits his head on the doorjamb coming in. Who says 'the air up there is better'? I mean, c'mon!......Well, former weekend bartender Keith's been back East now for three months and that bun-in-the-oven is due at the end of the month. I just can't wait to see a picture of the little bugger. Hi, Cassandra!......What's up with the kids playing this 'Arcade Fire' business on the jukebox? The last I heard, an 'arcade fire' was a terrible thing......College football starts today and you'll bet your sweet bippie I'm ready to root for ol' (whatever team Larry King likes a lot)!!!!!!!!!"

Tags: larry king

This is actual surveillance video taken at a popular business fairly close to my bar, shot last week.

I bring this to you because it's pretty relevant to the bar; this guy comes in ALL OF THE TIME and barely makes it through the door before we tell him "NO!" and he turns scummy heel and walks out to shit all over the neighborhood.

Be sure to check out the original "Poop Drop" on YouTube, it is the same thing taken from a different angle. A media-savvy bunch, we appreciate camera coverage here in Portland.

Tags: hating on the homeless

OK, I'm going to quickly wrap up this "I Hate Chad" thing and be done with it because it's boring.

-He alienates customers, driving business away.
-He thinks he's "The Man" when he is clearly not.
-Terrible bartender, incompetent and clueless cook.
-Borderline sycophantic when it comes to the Hulk. Asskissing creep. Disgusting.
-"Divide and conquer" type of personality. Does a lot of shit-talking when it comes to other employees.
-He's a liar, straight-up.

Alright, so the swingers thing was the last straw. Here is a couple that easily drops $100.00 on drinks for themselves and their friends EVERY TIME they come in. They come in twice a week (on my shift). That's a lot of fucking business.

"Who the hell is that weekend bartender guy?" Dot asked me last Thursday night.

Oh, Christ.

"Which one, Dot?" I asked, already knowing but wanting to hear her description of Chad in her words.

"The one with the shitty attitude, always wears a wifebeater and a big dumb hat and he thinks he's the fucking manager or something. Oh, and he looks like he should be a midget but he's not. But he should be..."

"Err...that would be Chad."

"Oh! Chad is a fucking asshole. That guy has a serious customer-service problem and has NO BUSINESS working behind that bar!" the normally mild-mannered and flirtatious Dot spat with some venom.

"Really!" I said, smiling. I motioned Hazel over so she could hear this as well. "Listen to who Chad alienated now."

"Yeah," she said, composing herself. "I guess I just wanted you two to know that Matthew and I are NEVER coming back here on the weekend EVER AGAIN. What nights do you two work?"

"Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday nights, dear," I say, grinning my motherfucking face off.

"You'll see us then. We LOVE you guys!" she said, signing her $87.00 tab and leaving a $25.00 tip. "Oh, and tell the owner that they made a huge mistake hiring this Chad creep!"

With this Dot and her adventurous lover Matthew strolled out the door.

I should say that "The Owner" is The Hulk, and Hulk is Hazel's husband. That's why I motioned her over to hear the rest of Dot's anti-Chad rant.

"Dere go some more bidness dat Chad drove away," Hazel said in her cute Pacific Islander accent.

"Sounds like it's getting pretty bad, Hazel."

"Yep. I tink I'm gonna tell Hulk about dis one."

Tags: chad, jerks

There are these new regulars. I'm pretty sure they're swingers because she is very flirtatious at the bar with me (and Hazel, but Hazel doesn't realize it) and her quasi-boyfriend likes to rub up against the honeys that they're playing pool with while she (I'll call her Dot) cooly watches from the table, pool cue in hand and smiling. They're kind of gross but they're good customers that like to spend money, a lot of it--at least $75.00 every time they come in for them and all of their friends, and that's like twice a week. It's a pretty good arrangement.

I don't want to get ahead of myself because, really, this one isn't about them (as interesting as they may be). It's more about one of my goddamn co-workers. If you don't want to read another work story/coworker-hate tale and want to skip it, fine.

I never thought I'd need to write about a coworker because when I started working at the Bar I Pour Drinks At everyone was kind of like a family and I never found a reason to complain about them ever, but I've worked there a long time now (almost five years, which is like 15 at your job. If you have one). Shit has changed. People left for better things, got shitcanned, burned out or, in two cases I can think of, went kind of nuts. About a year ago Chad came around. Chad sucks.

Chad was Former Weekend Bartender Keith's housemate, and he weaseled his way into a weekend cooking gig based on Keith's recommendation a little over a year ago. Keith (whom I love dearly and has since moved to Vermont with his expectant wife), naively thought he was helping his buddy out with a job, but Chad quickly crawled up the Hulk's ass, divided and conquered (kind of), and, long story short, drove Keith away and created drama and a job for himself. Keith will never come back again. Well, Keith's been away for four months now and that's given Chad plenty of time to consider how being a "weekend Bartender" makes him feel. It makes him feel like The Man!

(((Brief physical description: Chad is a 38 year old man that dresses like he's 16. You know the type: big, huge ill-fitting baseball cap, worn at a canted angle (stupid bastardization of a baseball cap and not even a baseball fan-arrgh!). Clothing advertising a skateboard product even though he doesn't skate (Geeeeaahh!). Huge Jack Johnson fan (AAAAAARRRRRRGGGGHHH!). Dumb tattoos, real dumb. Wifebeater tee-shirt, all the time, dude. Let me reiterate--he's 38 years old.)))

Chad really feels like he's The Man now, whoo boy lemme tell ya. He has alienated customers, both loyal regulars and strangers alike in ways I don't have time to recount here. Well, maybe a couple.

*86'd Phaedra's ex-girlfriend for a month. A FIVE YEAR REGULAR, she apparently had ordered some food on a Sunday night and he just wasn't "feelin'" cooking a food order (even though its his job). She called bullshit on that (she should), he didn't like that, and he 86'd her for a month! You'd have to piss on the bar for me to 86 someone (see entry from last summer - classic)! Even though she was only 86'd for "a month", SHE NEVER CAME BACK AGAIN.

*"On weekends, this is MY bar," he's quite fond of saying to whoever is within earshot. "You are in MY house, MY living room." Who says this? I mean, really? You say that to customers? You tactless, ignorant fuck. I've heard the reports, and they ain't good: There are people who have heard this that are NEVER COMING BACK AGAIN.

I should probably mention that Chad is the most awkward bartender ever, which means he's never done it before this. Ever. No food-service experience, no kitchen work , no restaurant-anything. Which means he's not that good at it. At all.

STAY TUNED FOR PART TWO OF THE "I HATE CHAD" SAGA (or: HOW "THE SWINGERS" GET MIXED UP IN IT).



I am far too stoned and tired to finish this now. It's six am!

What the hell? Does anyone even read this shit?

We were absolutely fucking slammed tonight. I smell like Jagermeister.

I feel dumb.

Should I even wh

Poll #1244838 Alcoholic Insanity
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: All

What kind of alcoholic beverage do you avoid (or indulge in) because it makes you weird, sullen, manic or downright unreasonable and insane?

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Tags: hijinx!

Wow. I sat down to write something and I cannot. It is just too fucking hot in here.

80 degrees at 1:00 am? In Portland?

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Current Music: Shitty band next door's "dude rock"