Cops, Crazies and Still More Frat Boys

You know, I set this up this up to give myself something to do when I get home at 5am, rather than stalking myspace crushes and leaving them half drunk, vaguely insulting comments - posting at 5.17am seems to really scare the 9-5ers - so I really thought it would be more work related hence the name. I think Monday just kicked my ass - my ring was higher in first hour of shift than it usually is the entire night - and everybody seemed to forget how the fuck to behave! It was like bartending to a class of 5 year olds, you know, if 5 year olds drank outside of Michael Jacksons private jet. This was one of those weeks when work felt like actual work rather than just good times.

So a little late, but can I just say I HATE YOU NEW YORK POST FROM LAST SUNDAY! How is it 'news' that bars allow people to smoke late at night? Anybody who drinks outside of Happy Hour knows that, and those that don't know don't need to. I get the Manhattan thing, too many stupid lifestyle Nazis, but leave my beloved outer boroughs alone! Everywhere's been running scared for the last week and it sucks. Whatevs, things will be back to normal by next week but boo anyway.

The Frat Boy cuz of my regular was back Monday, and ended up downstairs AGAIN with a different chick! This time I busted them as the bar was packed and we needed the restroom, but jeez. This guy, while cute, looks 12 i.e. cute in an adorable puppy kind of way, not in a 'take me now' way... maybe I just like my guys old and balding and therefore so, so grateful.


In a related note, had two hots girls totally macking on each other @ the bar last night, I wander off to serve someone and while my back is turned they disappear. Huh, guess they couldn't wait any longer and took off, I muse... hold on a second, where are their drinks? Goddammit! Yup, in the downstairs bathroom getting nekkid. What is the deal with taking your flipping drink with you when your hooking up? Call me naive, the only bar bathroom I ever had sex in was my own, after hours, with my LTR of the time, so maybe I just don't get it. I just know while having hot monkey sex reaching for my beverage, alcoholic or not, is never a priority. Generally I'll have reached for far to many beverages beforehand though... if you need it during, you haven't had close to enough before. Also, dimwits, it makes it impossible for me NOT to bust you (if I'm not playing favourites of course), unless I want to look like a blind stupid fool. Which I do not. Leave your stupid drink on the bar and I can pretend I think you're just outside smoking or something. Jeez.


Last night some cops from the local precinct stopped by for a beer. One of them was so, so cute. And single. And interested. Unfortunately his douchebag partner, Mr. Gigantotwat, was also single, and interested. And HOUNDING me. I could not get away from him for a second. One of those guys who thinks loud and persistent = funny and interesting. The cute one and I just had to settle for exasperated looks and sending 'shut the fuck up' thoughtwaves that didn't work until they swept him off to some strip club. Sigh. I hate it when the fine thing is outshouted by the macho one, happens way too often. Come back and see me alone! I am, as a general and occasionally (ahem) broken rule, against hooking up with customers. Either they turn into stalkers and your heart sinks when they come in, because they'll just sit in a corner glowering at every guy you talk to, or smile at, or you know, walk past; or it inevitably ands and I may lose a customer. But cops never hang out in the precinct they work in, the were just showing us some love, so he doesn't count okay! Oh well, I'll probably never see him again. Unless... the precinct is only 4 blocks from my house, I'm sure I can find 40 reasons a day to wander by until I accidentally bump into him.....

Two little rants.

1. What is it with the guys lately who, when I'm behind the bar and I'm talking to them, respond in grunts, but as soon as 4am hits they run over to join me and unleash the floodgates on whatever shite they've gone through that day? Therapy when I'm on the clock only please guys! And by the way, I'm counting here! Don't get whiny I'm not paying you attention, I tried to for last 3 hours! I can get my end of shift done in 15 minutes if you leave me alone, closer to 45 if I keep losing count because you need advice/attention/rehab. It doubly mystifies me because I work weeknights, I love dedicated drinkers and just off shift service industry regulars (who doesn't). I leave the weekend underage/karaoke/amateur hell to my younger, less burnt out coworkers. This means that usually between two and four am, there is enough space at the bar that if you pick your seat carefully we can talk in private, and I will have enough time to devote significant attention to your woes, certainly more than when doing paperwork.

2. I love my job, I love my bar, and I love 90% of my customers. Why oh why is it always the other 10% who happen to be wandering down the street when I go outside for a cigarette, and decide to stop for a chat about how men just want to fuck everything all the time (eew, shut up, you're older than my dad). Or how that bitch Miranda from Burger King told Tom you're in the mob and now your cousin's going too.. whatever I don't care, shut up too. You, my friend, are crazier than a bag of frogs. Or just stand all up in my space, stare creeeeepily whilst saying 'Well' every minute or so. Leave me alone! I'm begging you.

Oh and that barbecue I went to last Sat? My rookie cop friend texted me the next day saying 'Feel like crap. Good day though. House a mess.' Well obviously. Last night I ran into his roommates. Holy shit. Somebody got sick on their neighbours front doorstep, punched a hole in their ceiling(!) uprooted a tree in their front yard (WTF, was this thing attended by giants?), and that was just the uncensored stuff. I guess my friend is master of the understatement.

That's it. Off to the Met game, yay!

My Gay Ex

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All this frat chat reminds me of my gay ex-boyfriend...jeez haven't thought about him in ages.
Me and this guy hung out in the same bar every Friday, and I thought he was pretty damn cute. He was always in the same raggedy green sweater, and I had no idea what he did for a living apart from picking up the odd bartending shift there. It's totally against my code to date a bartender, but he wasn't a REAL bartender, just filling in - or so I rationalised.


Anyway. It started the week I bought myself some princess rollerskates, you know, pink wheels and white boots, so cute! I went outside,put them on, and immediately slapped myself off the sidewalk - to the applause of some porchsitting pensioner. Jerk. It hurt like hell, I thought I broke my wrist, but it ebbed after a while so I forgot about.


That Friday was the big night with my gay ex (MGE). He was a little drunk and finally got the courage when we were outside smoking to tell me
'I think you're really cute.'
'Really? Oh, I think you're really cute too!' (Okay I was drunk too)
'Really? That's so cool. I think you're really cute too!'
And we went on in this nauseating vein for a while, believe me. So I gathered my friends, and he gathered his, and we hit another bar. At some point I was making out with him outside a bar and I heard my friend come outside and start all hah ha, kissy kissy. So I turned to give my friend a well deserved slap upside the head, but he moved and I backhanded the doorframe with my wrist.
'Oh. My. God. MGE I just broke my arm.'
'Don't be stupid. That's impossible.'
'It HURTS!'
'Jager will fix that up nicely. Back to the bar!'
MGE came home with me that night, we were both WASTED. Woke up in the morning, made out a little bit, he tried to get a little boobage but I wouldn't let him. NB this is the most action I ever got from him. My arm was fucking killing, after a while I was like, get off me, I'm going to the ER. He teased me about being a big wussy girl.


I was almost happy when the doc said 'Yup, it's a broken wrist alright' (original damage on my pretty princess skates, made worse at bar) just to prove all those doughnuts from the night before wrong. Six weeks off work wasn't so cool though.


I went to the bar that night to show off my war wounds. Of course everybody knew MGE and I had hooked up, and there was predictable wife beating slagging. Which he totally took to heart, he got mad when I told his cuz he pushed me downstairs when I wouldn't give it up... which was bad I suppose but jeez dude, he knew I was joking.
TBC...28-May-07 4:02:26 PM


I ended up at his in the city that night. For a guy who, as far as I knew, survived off of fill-in bartending, his apartment was, well, too nice. Kickass view of the bridges over the East River, huge, just way out of what I presumed was his league. I liked it though - not enough books maybe but what was there was good, just the right amount of boy mess, and he had a great junior school photo in prominent display, where he looked like someone had just farted a decomposing body in front of him. Awesome. I presumed parental cash - maybe it's a European thing but over there people who grew up with bajillions often dress like this guy i.e. like hoboes. And as I've mentioned before, as long as a guy buys me a beer once in a while I don't really care what he's got.


So for a few weeks we fell into the habit of hanging out a couple times a week, usually in bars, usually with at least one friend/relative of MGE. He was affectionate and all in public... but at home, nada. Maybe a halfhearted kiss but he never tried any more. It was frustrating, I have needs godammit! Also if I stayed at his we'd always have to go somewhere early morning where he knew someone - in retrospect this screams LOOK, an actual girl! Stayed over! He did mention some day job but I didn't recognise the company, and he never seemed in a hurry to take off when I stayed over midweek.


Then. One Saturday morning we woke up in my place. I was putting the moves on(!) but MGE made me get up and come to the city as friends were in town. Back to his. He goes to change, comes out of the bedroom..... oh my God. Hair with, I don't know, stuff in it. A PINK, popped collar polo. Khakis. And the crowning touch, a sun visor sported backwards and upsidedown! WTF? You're a preppy in disguise! I should have just gone home then, but I went out with him and his friends, who were all in the same uniform and all behaved as the uniform suggests. It was a strange experience to walk into bars and have the bartender in damage control mode from the second they saw us because they knew the guys would act like douches and sadly they did. MGE was actually a nice guy but this crowd. And again, all over me in public but nothing in our alone moments. That's when I figured out I was his beard. Clearly this crowd would not be cool with a guy who likes guys. And that was the end of MGE.


The day job by the way turned out to be some ridiculous Wall Street bajillionaire job.


In the interests of fairness I want to acknowledge maybe he just wasn't that into me... but come on. What guy has a rather fabulous young lady like myself stay over multiple times and do nothing?

29-May-07 2:45:51 PM

Frat Magnet

(Sorry, I've been singing that to the 'Rock Lobster' tune all day...)

Okay, once was fun as I haven't experienced it before, but shoot me if I've begun attracting these people! (Although I suppose yesterdays guy is more accurately a preppy, but the whole atmosphere there was frat).


My regular brought his relative in last night for birthday celebration. He was a nice kid, to me anyway, but...FRAT BOY. Even my regular (let's call him Peter) who usually dresses, well - are we still allowed to say metrosexual? -was rocking the backwards baseball cap. I nearly dropped dead when I saw that on him. His cuz was sporting the same but looked way more at home in it and a tee with slogan 'Think Long And Hard'. Nice. They were telling me about his birthday party the night before. The guy lives in a converted frat house upstate with a working fully stocked bar, beer on tap included, a pool, 2.5 acres of land, and shares with 5 firefighters. Now that's a party house. The party highlights included 20 kegs in a refrigerated truck ( and to think I was excited about my first), a couple having sex on a lawn chair in full view of everyone until the chair broke, and a roommate getting so drunk and aggressive he broke down a locked door, gave two people black eyes, and was asked to move out the next morning. Woo!


It was quiet, holiday weekend, but I had two girls at the bar, one was pretty drunk. She kept interrupting her conversation to yell 'DWIGHT YOAKAM' at me whenever I walked by. I haven't the foggiest why but it was flipping annoying. Peter and the cuz made their moves... Eventually the cuz and drunk girl disappear downstairs to the bathroom. Now I always break this kind of stuff up, but yeah I play favourites, and Peter's one of my faves. So I pretended not to notice his cuz get a little birthday action. After they were gone for a few I noticed the guy brought his goddamn beer down with him! Awesome. That's dedication, let nothing interrupt your quality beer time!


Wow. I didn't mean for this to be all about the frat boys but that's just the way my weekend turned out. Forgive me for finding this so interesting/amusing but it's pretty alien to me. I did grow up with 'the Lads' which was all about beer, bitches and your boyeezz, but I was honorary female member so...THAT'S why I love this crap, it reminds me of my misspent teenage years! Hanging around with the Lads though, and hearing how they spoke about birds they pulled, is the reason I stayed a virgin til I was 19 and safely stateside...

Enough. I'm getting far too serious. Here's hoping for some shenanigans tonight!

I am so totally a Yank

Went to two slightly wierd and uncomfortable parties yesterday. The second was a wedding party for two regulars I don't know very well, civilised, not too exciting. The first though may well have been the crowning achievement of my six years in the US - my first where I was the only Irish person there, MY FIRST KEG! WOO!, and my first beer pong! So American I can hardly stand it y'all.


I was even hit on by some overgrown frat dude (pastel polo - from Burberry no less - popped collar and all) in the following manner.
'You're Irish? Cool, me too, my last name's O'Neill.'
'You think I'm goodlooking? I'm huge too. Huge.'
'I'm on track to make a million this year.'
I'm not kidding, these were the first three sentences this asshat spoke to me. Still at least he was speaking to me - I only knew the three guys who threw it. There were about 30 frat boys and rookie cops, and about six girlfriends. And me, apparently the only single girl there. There was only so much babysitting the hosts could do, and the girls were fine but not too friendly. The guys were mostly taken up with the beer pong league, it was early i.e. male bonding time. I left before it got late i.e. bro, are there any chicks at this thing or what time. I meant to come back after showing face at the second. Come on, I was the only girl and rookie cops - yum! Not to date maybe but there were some fine looking boys at that barbecue... However didn't eat all day as I am a moron and the margaritas I was drinking knocked me on my ass.


About frat dude - that money thing drives me nuts. I can pay my own way thank you, it is the biggest turn off when some twat tries to impress with his salary. My friend is a social worker, he's cute, funny and blah blah blah, and when women hit on him in the bar he says 90% of the time their eyes glaze over and they're on to the next victim when they realise he'll never make more than 50 thou. O'Neill there, when his words didn't make me drop my knickers immediately, asked me why Irish girls don't like American guys. We do, sweetie, we just don't like scumbags in general and YOU in particular. (Guess where he lives? UES, what a shocker.) Rather awesomely, his friend wandered over at this point and told him 'She's Irish? You're shit out of luck, dude, they don't care about money, they're all about the personality'. Hee, even his friends know he won't get laid on charm alone.