Let's see if this sticks

I keep trying to catch up the last couple of months, but between apt. hunting and NOOOO INTERNET ACCESS this fell by the wayside. Settled now though so let's catch up.

FB - Wow, what a jerk. I had him dangling on the line a bit. But when he found out I stayed at The Ex's place a couple days when I had to move, he went nuts, calling me a slut. I couldn't even get mad 'cos it was at work, he's a semi-regular, and no=one knew we were hooking up; I had to tell him with a smile "I don't think you're in the right mood to be drinking". This was like 2 months ago, he kind of apologised and is back to being just another guy in the bar - albeit one who's seen me nekkid!

My Fake Boyf - Had to cut him off completely, and kind of cruelly. The text message declarations of love were out of control. I told him it would be kind of pathetic for his entire life to revolve around my bar, and it kind of calmed down a bit. However a possible new prospect just told me when he asked why I was off one night MFB said - Why, are you in love with her? and got all territorial - Oh holy crap he literally texted me right this minute saying 'I still luv you, do you still luv me?' We haven' had any outside work contact, I hardly speak to him at work anymore - I don't know what else to do.

Hot Teacher - My willpower lasted three days, and then we had lots and lots of awesome sex. However he is either an enormous asshole, or just the only guy I've ever dated who's been truly honest with me. More on him later.

So for the new stuff. I got ridiculously lucky on Craigslist. My sublet guy decided to come home early so I had to move mid-month and I hadn't even looked. I'm still unnerved by how well it came together. Everyone wanted like $900 to sleep in a closet, so I just posted an ad looking for a share. The first reply I got was the place I took. And it is AWESOME - doorman building with gym and sauna, washer dryer in the apt.!, private bathroom, walk-in closet, huge terrace with Manhattan/Triborough (I think; some bridge anyway) view - unbelievable. And the roommmate turned out to be one of my regulars' boss so she could give a glowing recommendation. And he's ahead chef at a Michelin starred restaurant - yum. (He's pretty cute too but there'll be no shenanigans, I love this place too too much.) I just moved in a week ago but everything's great so far. And it's weird, I feel like I have to act better to reflect my great living situation - dress better, better posture, less drunken idiocy? I don't know, it's all good anyhow.

Yum

I saw him last month actually, walking down 8th Ave across from Scruffy Duffy's. You know how when you see a celeb in NY they are usually recognisable by the palpable aura of 'please please don't notice me' they emanate? The Hoff was, predictably, the opposite - sauntering down the street, hitting on the ladies, shooting at the guys with his imaginary finger guns...He was one small step removed from yelling 'I AM THE HOFF MOTHERFUCKERS! BOW BEFORE MY TANGERINE SKIN AND RADIOACTIVE TEETH!' It was the most awesome thing I have seen this year. Or probably ever.

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!