Cinco De Mayo

                                         Tequila Sunrise
                           
                        2oz Tequila(of your choice)
                        Fill rocks glass with orange juice
                         splash grenadine or cherry juice
                           served on ice in a rocks glass

     Thats right its almost that magical time of year again when large groups of mostly non-Mexican people celebrate a holiday that they barely have an understanding of other then its always on the 5th of May. These nights are one in a few drinking holidays that many of us in the industry refer to as "amateur night". Meaning that people who rarely go out to drink lay it all on the line and become obnoxious, angry and quite childish. 

                                          We are so glad that whatever happened on May 5th happened that we
                              are going to celebrate ethnic stereotypes. Wheres the Fritos?!!


   I was working at a hotel bar and we were all geared up for our first attempt at a drinking holiday. We had all the specials in place, plenty of Corona on ice and was getting the pool ready with a small satellite bar. Thats when the rain came. The hotel was at maximum capacity that week with a little league baseball team and parents. The entire bar staff had gotten pretty good at running off any 10 year olds who wandered into the bar. The rain had cancelled one of the little league's day of games and the youngsters weren't the only restless ones on this rainy May 5th. The house keepers and maintenance guys had came in to take a break and boasted that they had all removed the trash from almost every room twice that day, most of it being beer and liquor bottles. I recall us all having a few choice words to say about their parenting skills as a gang of adolescents went running through the background unsupervised. Needless to say without our already advertised pool party this was going to be a slow night.
   Its starting to get dark outside and the rain was still coming down. A few of our loyal regulars had shown up and they really didn't care that it was Cinco De Mayo. They were just there for the usual buzz after work or in some cases before work. The bar was semi-separated by a wall and some double doors from another room that was once a dinning area. We had a couple of pool tables out there and a few televisions. If you were behind the bar you couldn't really see into the pool table room. A few server girls handled the mostly weak crowds that slumped around the pool tables and the few people who came in to have a dinner. I began noticing that more and more service well tickets were coming in and thats when one of the girls told me that she had a large group of baseball parents out there. She also said some of them were already pretty damned drunk. 

                                          Fetch me my "worlds best dad" mug! I need to sneak in some booze.


It was relatively quite in the bar area and as on many of a slow night at this bar we the staff took it upon ourselves to show the patrons how to party. So we knocked down a few mid shift shots to take the edge of being in a quite bar off. Time passed by boringly. I was glaring at some sort of sports jargon on the t.v. when around the corner came a little server girl who, very calmly, said "You got any tabs for the guys out there? I think they are startin' to fight.". I'm almost certain she said that line verbatim. I went to check and see what was up. I turned the corner and there was one of the biggest fights I had seen this side of the Double Deuce( obviously before Dalton cleaned the place up. You don't get the reference?! Then you should watch Road House. It's required watching for anyone in the bar industry). 

                                             Not exactly a fight scene from Road House but you
                                                            get the picture.


     There before my eyes was a large mass of men crawling on top of other human bodies while swinging all of their limbs like some kind of drowning victim. It stunned me and took a second for it to really soak in. I then realized that O'Malley(the bar manager) and Big B(the kitchen guy) were the crowd control. O'Malley was grabbing and pulling people from the pile and tossing them back into the circle that surrounded the main fight. Big B was keeping others from jumping into the pile. The circle was also starting to erupt into a few smaller shoving matches and yelling contests. It was kind of like if you and a friend went to fight someone then got in a fight over who was going to fight him first. I jumped into the middle of this to help my comrades. Sometimes us fellows have more machismo( broke out that word just for Cinco De Mayo) then good sense. A big fat white guy who bared a resemblance to the tough man champion Butter Bean had his fist ready to knock me flat when Big B stopped him with "He works here!". We had a small group of locals helping break up the fight or beat up some dudes. Whatever you want to call it. 
  O'Malley had separated the pig pile and Big B had mostly pushed the crowd towards the exit. Thats when I saw possibly the worse victim of our Cinco De Mayo massacre, a young boy crying about his father. The staff began to tell everyone to clear out that the police were in route. Most everyone set sail for a hiding place. People began running out every exit like scalded dogs. Guys ran through the kitchen, bar, lobby and anywhere else that had an opening towards the outdoors. I was sure that this was all over.
  Around four men began to start fighting towards the back of the pool room and ended up falling into a booth. I went over to pull them apart when an older man came out of the booth with blood on his face and a hollowness in his eyes. He stumbled cartoonish and then fell on the hard concrete floor. His skull dribbled like a basketball. I will boast that I've had some medical training in my day and that my diagnosis of this said gentleman wasn't for the good. I immediately came over to him to help. I told him loud and clear that I was part of the staff and to try not to move. Thats when I noticed his bloody knuckles. That old snake was part of the wrestling match. I began hearing a female voice with a strong New Jersey accent coming from behind me.
 "Thats my daddy!"
 "Wait Lady I work here"
 "Get off my daddy you sonofabitch!"
 Miss New Jersey crawled onto my back and began ramming her small fist into my kidneys. This woman was around 5'4 and 90 pounds but she sure could throw a piercing kidney jab. I bucked her off and away she went circling around with her cell phone.
"I'll sue you fuckers!"
"Lady, I'm just trying to help."
"Fuck you for hurting my daddy! Hello 911."
 Then one of our bar regulars came up and moved me out of the way saying "I'll take it from here". It was Magic Don. Don was a middle aged man who came to the bar almost everyday with his mother. Now if that wasn't a sign of a virgin bed wetter maybe the fact that he was a master of cheap card tricks and all around silly magic parlor displays was. Magic Don took over from there asking how many fingers do I have up, who's the President and are you alright. I was so astonished by his medical assessment that I stormed off to get the old bastard some ice and a towel for the bleeding.

                                                    
                                                                  Abracadabra! You have a concussion!


 As the cops began to arrive we all learned the reason for the May 5th rumble. It was Miss New Jersey and her battered and bruised husband. Like I said earlier she was around 5'4 and he on the other hand was about 6'4 and quite stout to boot. It all started as she drunkenly staggered around the pool tables and bumped into a guy shooting pool. She told her super sized hubby that she was grabbed in a sexual manner. He began body slamming every man in his path,without questioning his intoxicated bride, before the crowd eventually,sort of ,joined forces against the mammoth.
  She was right they did try to sue the whole hotel for medical bills and damages. It never held up in court. I even got to write a shorter version of this story as a form of a witness of the case. I don't know exactly what it was but after that our little bar's following grew rapidly. I suppose everyone enjoys a good drunken brawl after a hard day at work
 Until next time, Salud!

A night of firsts.......

                                                            Sex with an Alligator
                                                                                                                                                   mix 3/4oz melon liqueur and 1/2oz sour mix
                                                                                                                                                                    then shake over ice and strain into martini glass
                                                                                                                                                                     add 1oz chilled Jagermeister, pour over spoon slowly
                                                                                                                                                            finally add 1oz Chambord(or raspberry cordial), also pour slowly over spoon.
                                                                                  
                                                                                                                                                                       If done correctly this drink should layer.

                                                       *meant to be drank as a shooter*
   So here I am working behind a bar that boasts classically inspired cocktails and doesn't even have shooter glasses. I'm growing to enjoy the more culinary approach to inebriating people from all different walks of life. Yet I mustn't forget my roots of the bar tending style I have coined as "blue collar boozeman/woman". Nor will I.                                                                                                                                                                                              I have also had the pleasure of meeting one of my new favorite characters in my ongoing saga of this bar life. His name is Tony G. He has inspired me to dig down into the dusty pages of long forgotten drink recipe books and spend part of my wasteful internet usage researching the origins of cocktails(even though it is a small part). He is a smooth dresser and a cornucopia of old school drink knowledge. And on top of being able to hold his own behind a bar that has cocktails that take minutes not seconds to craft which also fills up like that of most honky tonks and clubs, he can also dance like ReRun from the television show Whats Happening.

                                                        [Fred Berry was the original Notorious BIG]
  
   With all of his awesome drink knowledge and boss dance moves I can still one-up him in one field....the shooter department. Tony simply has never had to be in a bar where the yearning masses longing to be intoxicated have asked for a million different quick and to the liver shots on any given night. So when its time for a nice liquid stress killer(I should really invent a shot with that name) guess who he comes to. No, me.
So its a Friday night that had its ups and downs. Tony and I are the last two bar tenders and the clock is swiftly approaching 1am. Needless to say we both were long over due for something to take the edge off. The night started with C02 tank running completely out so no sodas or mixers could be used. I used tonic and soda water from the gun anyway and not a single person noticed or at least didn't complain. We were both glad to see our shift coming to an end and the thought of having to explain to one more tourist that he/she couldn't have a Jack and Coke because of C02 I'm sure both made use nauseous. It was time for a shot.
  Hey man! Whip us up a shot!
  Shit dude, your the one with all the stupid shot recipes!
  He was right. I was the one with a noggin full of shooters. So thats when it hit me. I haven't layered a drink in well....I can't remember.
   Ever had a Sex with an Alligator?
   What the fuck is that?
  Our shot tonight.

                                                                        [don't let the struggle fool ya,
                                                                                       shes totally into it.]
  
 There I went painstakingly mixing a shooter that I at one time hated to make. Mainly I hated it because it was always ordered by some ditzy poon who never tipped enough for the time it took to make it. Plus it always seemed to be asked for during a rush of people standing four deep at the bar. But not tonight no hate in this ole heart of mine. Tony stood over my shoulder watching in wonderment of my concoction. I slightly messed up the layers, give me a break it has been awhile. He distressed how bad he thought it was gonna taste and I didn't agree nor disagree. I just simply grinned as we cheered to a night soon to be in our rear view. We downed the shot in a few gulps. His idea of the bad taste was correct for him, but for me it was a blast from the past.
  We began cleaning and breaking down the bar. Tony came over around a few minutes later and said something to the affect of "Shit,dude! I see why you made us that shot." My buzz was also kicking in and I was as busy as a bee on my closing duties. Tony had found a seltzer water bottle sometime through out the night for his side of the bar so he could make a few drinks. Can you see where this is going? I was at the computer screen looking at a few open checks when I felt a cold pulsating spray of water hit my butt-crack and continue down onto my scrotum. I turned quickly around and there with a smile that would rival the cheshire cat and a bottle of seltzer water was Tony. This was totally a first. Not only in my bar tending career, but in my life. I've always been a fan of old slap stick comedy but never thought I would fall victim to it as well. We both chuckled, he more so, and went back to work breaking down the bar.

                                          [Dramatic reenactment of that night. Minus the nut shot.] 
   We were almost done with the night, my butt and nuts still damp, when Tony came around the corner with an idea. While holding an egg he said that it couldn't be broken in ones palm no matter how hard you squeezed. I first thought this was a cheap parlor trick to get me to break an egg in my hand. Then he gave his logic...Mr. Wizard. I still disagreed from trying but was a willing spectator. Another thing about Tony is that he is ripped. He works out a shit ton and has the guns to prove it. He was bearing down on this chicken egg(just wanted to clear that up in case someone didn't know which animal we in the bar biz get our eggs from) when it busted and shot liquid chicken all over me. This was also a first for us both. The first time he had ever tested a Mr. Wizard hypothesis and the first time I had ever been covered in egg as an adult. I can't remember when but I'm sure I was pelted by an egg or two as a child. He felt pretty bad about splattering an egg all over me and apologized frequently. All I could do is stand in bewilderment and lightly laugh at the whole situation. He told me that he was gonna take care of the rest of the closing duties and let me take off early. I was more then happy to go. So ended a night of firsts.
 Until next time CHEERS Y'ALL!

Oh so wild nowadays....

                                                        Pimm's Cup
                                                     Muddle 2 sprigs mint, quarter strawberry, slice cucumber and orange rind
                                                      1 1/2 oz Pimms
                                                      1/2 oz Gin(I use Tanqueray. Your choice however.)
                                                      3/4 fresh lime juice
                                                       3/4 simple syrup
                                                      Shake over ice. Strain into a cocktail glass over ice. Garnish with any of
                                                      the left over fruit.

 I put this recipe up today to just share with everyone the difference in bars and styles of bar tending I've done and continue to learn. Plus its nice, refreshing and has nothing to do with this story. I recently over heard some coworkers talking about how wild things got on New Year's Eve. I was there and don't recall anything but a few drunks having some words. Then a girl past out cold in the floor. I didn't and can not call this a wild night in my opinion. The following is why.
 It was a typical night in the bar( the hotel bar that was kind of like a speakeasy to locals). The hotel was having a function in one of its ballrooms for one the hotel's auditor's uncle whats his face. A bug eyed young guy looking to be in his late twenties came up to the bar and asked me "wheres my girl" and "I'll have my usual". I asked which "girl" he meant and replied "I don't know your usual pal because I ain't ever seen you before." He looked strangely and slient at me with his bulging saucer sized eyes. Our quite standoff lasted a few seconds before he awkwardly laughed and said "I'll take two Jager Bombs." I made his drinks and took his money. He was there with a blonde girl that seemed to be quite and shy. One of the female bar tenders noticed him and mentioned she had known of him in high school. She also brought up the fact he was a slight weirdo who may have accidently shot a friend of his with a shotgun. I can't recall if the friend lived or met his demise. Either way it was a red flag. He moved about the bar without even sipping his drink. He began butting into bar guest's conversations. This was also a night of a big sporting event. Can't remember which exactly. Needless to say the people were drinking, in either celebration or remorse, heavily. A few guests started looking uncomfortable while he was around. A couple others came to us and verbally complained. 

 Bug Eyes wandered over to some guys who really didn't like being bothered. They hung out together, talked sports and generally mind their own business. Bug Eyes was right up in their faces asking them all sorts of questions about themselves. The guys at first were real relaxed about his intrusion and played it off as just some random drunk asshole being just that. May I also say that I really don't think he had anything more than that shot. He spilled more of the shot then he drank. This is where things start turning for the worse. He began claiming to be some sort of Kung-Fu master or something just as absurd. So while the bar began to fill up, Bug Eyes aka David Carradine was throwing out challenges to the 4 or so guys. I suppose that they had enough and one of them took him up on one. I didn't get to see exactly what it was, but apparently it was nothing short of a train wreck for poor ole Bug Eyes. After his utter and complete laughed at failure he left the bar area.

One of the cocktail server girls came up to the bar and told me to get the bouncer that something was going on in the men's room. I was full of a bit more piss and vinegar(mostly piss) back then and decided to investigate myself. The front desk clerk was standing next to, you guessed it, Bug Eyes. He claimed that someone punched him in the face and then broke the large mirror in the men's room. I walked into the restroom to look for the other guy and see the damages. He was right about the mirror, completely trashed. But when I looked for the attacker that just whipped a mirror, bathroom wall and known name in the karate circuit all I found was a frightened teenage boy with his pants undone. I asked if he was ok and what happened. He told me that he was going about his business when a crazy person came in shouting and then there was a crashing noise. I told him not to worry it was alright. Then I peered over and saw a large turd floating in the toilet. Bug Eyes had literally scared the shit out of this poor kid. I advised the kid to flush and go back to wherever he came from. When I walked out Bug Eyes yelled at the teenager saying "Thats him! Thats the bastard!". I looked over at his arm and noticed that his sleeve was covered in sheet rock dust and that his knuckles were bleeding. I told the desk guy to call the cops on the guy. Bug Eyes began his protest. 
  I didn't do anything, man!
  You sure?
   Fuck you prove it!
  Look at your arm dumb ass
 About that time our bouncer, manager and kitchen guy came around the corner. All of these guys where large and intimidating to say the least. Buggy tried to run but the bouncer easily stopped the attempt. It was the first of many more. The police seemed to take an eternity to arrive. In the meantime we got to listen to ramblings about how we are all going to be sued because Bug Eyes isn't only a Do Jo master but also a law student. We couldn't help but laugh and laugh and chuckle some more. Then he got very serious about testing us on how far we could be pushed before we turned him in to a greasy smudge in the carpet. He mainly did this to the manager. Mostly fuck your mama stuff and a few fat pokes. The manager, lets call him O'Malley, took it very well. He was however more then helpfully to the bouncer on being physical to keep him at bay. He just kept belching up stuff about our mothers being whores, fat jokes to the bigger guys and how we were all in huge trouble. I had enough and just told him to shut his stupid stink trap under his nose, in a very nice manner. He lunged towards me and the bouncer, lets call him Vicious(real nickname by the way) or Vic for short, grabbed him up and slammed him back down. I felt truly blessed to have big brothers that could do the actions of most mob enforcers. We also considered ourselves family. I never noticed how it paralleled until later in life. Then O'Malley told me to go wait for the cops so the could be directed straight to us. I walked out the door and there was the city's finest, a small female police officer. I told her what was up and as we rounded the corner Vic and the others were practically wrestling Bug Eyes. Vic being a man of color hoped up pointing to his staff shirt as soon as he saw the lady officer draw her baton. She was a true pro and had the nut job hog tied in a matter of seconds. Other officers arrived shortly. Bug Eyes never really stopped resisting arrest or shouting his credentials of his law school education. The male cops used him as batting practice as soon as the female officer was out of sight. We southerners still have a bit of chivalry in us I guess. I went back to the bar and the other fellas told me the good quotes later. Heres a few:
  "Pre law? After this he'll be pre med".
  "You can't hurt me!" Give me more!"
    "Please don't be too hard on him. Hes my fiancee."
   "Lady, you might want to start looking for another man"
    "That pepper spray ain't shit."
   "Ok,Ok! I'm sorry! I'll quit!"
   I'm sure you can't paint the mental picture of what happened with those. 
  Well folks hope you enjoyed a little piece of my history. Please feel free to comment, positively or negatively. And as always...CHEERS Y'ALL!    .