Story: Sunday Funday - The Beer Pong Tournament 2
Bartenders and the rest of the service industry(servers, hosts, barbacks, etc) exist in a strange microsm of the world. We work when everyone else is playing and tend to sleep while everyone else is at work. My usual shift begins at 4 or 7pm and goes until 3 or 4am. 9to5ers have their happy hour from 5-7 (when im working) so my happy hour usually goes from 4-6am with my friends from work sitting on someones couch or balcony, consuming far too many beers or shots than is likely wise and typically with a buffet of illicit narcotics to choose from.
Service Industry types really form their own subculture. Their lives tend to not mesh with those who work "normal jobs" and have far more in common with those who work the graveyard shift. Their "weekends" tend to be sunday through tuesday (although during football season, even sunday can be a primo shift). From this dichotomy, springs the ritual of Sunday Funday. 9to5ers can go out on Friday night (or afternoon) and drink and party and dance and copulate and do all the things that annoying bar patrons do. Us? We have to wait until sunday to get our real party on.
Watching people party at SIN (Service Industry Night) nights is certainly a lesson in Anthropology. The vast majority of SI types are nothing like the normal customers. They don't demand, they don't bitch, they don't ask for free or stiff drinks (although they usually get them), they don't ask dumb questions, they don't worry about what is on special, and, most importantly, they tip far too well (this tends to explain why they get so much free stuff).
However, and this is what I find amusing, SI types will party hardcore. Shots and drinks galore. They will get blackout drunk and cause little to no problem. They won't fight someone (unless their bouncers and just have all that rage built up from not being able to hit people at work) unless its very well deserved. They can be a case and a half of Corona deep and still respect where they are at. That's why I love partying with them.
This brings me to the first of many stories about my and my co-workers exploits on Sunday Funday.
This story begins with a bar sponsered Beer Pong tournament. I hadn't planned on playing but the bracket needed one more team so I called my soon to be rooomate who drove down from the suburbs and we began.
Our first two games we win by a relatively large margin. This surprises me because my roommate is normally horrific at beer pong (ever since I made her play gin and tonic pong with me she hasn't been the same, haha). However, both of us are making cups like pros. Two teams that should have been a threat are quickly relegated to the losers' bracket.
However, at this point, my roommate begins to get a bit wobbly. She's not a big drinker and doesnt work in the biz so really hasn't taught her liver how to deal with the deluge of beer and shots like I (and my co-workers) have. We proceed to lost the next two games in close matches and since she has to drive home, I drink all of the beer from the last game: two pints in about 10 minutes.
What happens next is the normal course for teams knocked out of the tournament.
Shots and beers galore!
I continue to drink myself insane with the help of my co-workers, managers, and even owner. Then my best friend and our friends from freshman year show up and the only way to greet friends is with a round of shots...right?
Side note: I have this problem with loving to buy rounds of shots. I used to worry about spending $20-40 in a matter of minutes. However, this was simply a problem of drinking with college students who couldn't afford to "get me back" and buy their own round. However, once a bartender with many bartender and server friends who were always willing to give back for a free shot, this no longer became a problem. I use that word cautiously because when you buy a round of 6 shots, and then proceed to do 6 more shots in the next hour, it can become a problem!
At this point, I'm three sheets to the wind. Actually, its probably more like 5 sheets, but I'm good at handling myself when I'm hammered.
The tournament ends and the MOD (manager on duty) decides he's had enough of our drunk shegnangans and offers last call. I close my $100 tab and we move on to the next bar, a shitty dive that everyone loves and which defines the city I'm from.
After about 3 beers (and likely some shots) there, my mind becomes fuzzy. I remember being cognizant enough to give my car keys to my friend who wasn't driving with the explicit order to punch me in the face should I demand them back because even I knew I was in no condition to operate my zipper fly, let alone an automobile.
I wake up at my managers house with no recollection of the previous night. Still drunk, I down some water and grab my spare key. I wait out the intoxication and drive home to pass back out and fight the hangover pounding in my head. Throughout the day my phone rings with calls from co-workers and my night begins to be pieced back together.
Among the crazyness that happened:
1. I made out with one of our cuter waitresses for at least an hour on a bar stool. I find this out when she calls me asking me if I remember any of it. I have no recollection (unfortuanately) but when she informs me that we did, my only response is "cool."
2. I got cut off, which is a seriously difficult thing to do in this kind of bar.
3. One of the other waitresses dumped an entire pint of beer on my managers head causing him to get thrown out. We begin our mass exodus at this point.
4. I'm in the back room after somehow getting another Corona. As we begin to leave, I struggle to put the new and full bottle of beer into my cargo shorts pocket so I have something to savor on the walk home. One of the bartenders, whom I've become good friends with since, sees it and follows me to the door. When I finnally get the bottle into my pocket and turn to exit, he swoops past me, reaches down and pulls the bottle out of my pocket, apparent to all but me. Still cold, he manages to resell it!
I felt like I got hit by a train the next day but it was worth it if only for the stories of drunken debauchery.
Tonite, enjoy the best hangover killer I know of:
Bloody Mary
1 1/2 oz Vodka
3 oz Tomato juice
1 dash Lemon juice
1/2 tsp Worcestershire sauce
2-3 drops Tabasco sauce
1 wedge Lemon, a piece of celery, cherry tomatoes, or any other garnish
Combine all in a shaker. Give a good shake and add salt, pepper, and extra Tabasco to taste.
Service Industry types really form their own subculture. Their lives tend to not mesh with those who work "normal jobs" and have far more in common with those who work the graveyard shift. Their "weekends" tend to be sunday through tuesday (although during football season, even sunday can be a primo shift). From this dichotomy, springs the ritual of Sunday Funday. 9to5ers can go out on Friday night (or afternoon) and drink and party and dance and copulate and do all the things that annoying bar patrons do. Us? We have to wait until sunday to get our real party on.
Watching people party at SIN (Service Industry Night) nights is certainly a lesson in Anthropology. The vast majority of SI types are nothing like the normal customers. They don't demand, they don't bitch, they don't ask for free or stiff drinks (although they usually get them), they don't ask dumb questions, they don't worry about what is on special, and, most importantly, they tip far too well (this tends to explain why they get so much free stuff).
However, and this is what I find amusing, SI types will party hardcore. Shots and drinks galore. They will get blackout drunk and cause little to no problem. They won't fight someone (unless their bouncers and just have all that rage built up from not being able to hit people at work) unless its very well deserved. They can be a case and a half of Corona deep and still respect where they are at. That's why I love partying with them.
This brings me to the first of many stories about my and my co-workers exploits on Sunday Funday.
This story begins with a bar sponsered Beer Pong tournament. I hadn't planned on playing but the bracket needed one more team so I called my soon to be rooomate who drove down from the suburbs and we began.
Our first two games we win by a relatively large margin. This surprises me because my roommate is normally horrific at beer pong (ever since I made her play gin and tonic pong with me she hasn't been the same, haha). However, both of us are making cups like pros. Two teams that should have been a threat are quickly relegated to the losers' bracket.
However, at this point, my roommate begins to get a bit wobbly. She's not a big drinker and doesnt work in the biz so really hasn't taught her liver how to deal with the deluge of beer and shots like I (and my co-workers) have. We proceed to lost the next two games in close matches and since she has to drive home, I drink all of the beer from the last game: two pints in about 10 minutes.
What happens next is the normal course for teams knocked out of the tournament.
Shots and beers galore!
I continue to drink myself insane with the help of my co-workers, managers, and even owner. Then my best friend and our friends from freshman year show up and the only way to greet friends is with a round of shots...right?
Side note: I have this problem with loving to buy rounds of shots. I used to worry about spending $20-40 in a matter of minutes. However, this was simply a problem of drinking with college students who couldn't afford to "get me back" and buy their own round. However, once a bartender with many bartender and server friends who were always willing to give back for a free shot, this no longer became a problem. I use that word cautiously because when you buy a round of 6 shots, and then proceed to do 6 more shots in the next hour, it can become a problem!
At this point, I'm three sheets to the wind. Actually, its probably more like 5 sheets, but I'm good at handling myself when I'm hammered.
The tournament ends and the MOD (manager on duty) decides he's had enough of our drunk shegnangans and offers last call. I close my $100 tab and we move on to the next bar, a shitty dive that everyone loves and which defines the city I'm from.
After about 3 beers (and likely some shots) there, my mind becomes fuzzy. I remember being cognizant enough to give my car keys to my friend who wasn't driving with the explicit order to punch me in the face should I demand them back because even I knew I was in no condition to operate my zipper fly, let alone an automobile.
I wake up at my managers house with no recollection of the previous night. Still drunk, I down some water and grab my spare key. I wait out the intoxication and drive home to pass back out and fight the hangover pounding in my head. Throughout the day my phone rings with calls from co-workers and my night begins to be pieced back together.
Among the crazyness that happened:
1. I made out with one of our cuter waitresses for at least an hour on a bar stool. I find this out when she calls me asking me if I remember any of it. I have no recollection (unfortuanately) but when she informs me that we did, my only response is "cool."
2. I got cut off, which is a seriously difficult thing to do in this kind of bar.
3. One of the other waitresses dumped an entire pint of beer on my managers head causing him to get thrown out. We begin our mass exodus at this point.
4. I'm in the back room after somehow getting another Corona. As we begin to leave, I struggle to put the new and full bottle of beer into my cargo shorts pocket so I have something to savor on the walk home. One of the bartenders, whom I've become good friends with since, sees it and follows me to the door. When I finnally get the bottle into my pocket and turn to exit, he swoops past me, reaches down and pulls the bottle out of my pocket, apparent to all but me. Still cold, he manages to resell it!
I felt like I got hit by a train the next day but it was worth it if only for the stories of drunken debauchery.
Tonite, enjoy the best hangover killer I know of:
Bloody Mary
1 1/2 oz Vodka
3 oz Tomato juice
1 dash Lemon juice
1/2 tsp Worcestershire sauce
2-3 drops Tabasco sauce
1 wedge Lemon, a piece of celery, cherry tomatoes, or any other garnish
Combine all in a shaker. Give a good shake and add salt, pepper, and extra Tabasco to taste.
posted by Bartender Savant at 8:26 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home