While I was working in Seattle....well, lets go back a few paces. Let's start with how I got the job. That tale is pretty delightful in itself. Short but simple. Really quick. Let's go. Boom.
I had been living in Seattle for four days, got tired of waiting around for a job, went to the library to print out resumes to go door to door to bars and get a job. Starting out with eight, I had my very last one in hand and walked up to a fancy looking little place, "Are y'all hiring for a bartender?"
"Yes. Can you show up in two hours for your first shift?"
"Yes."
Boom. That's how I started working in Seattle. (The full details of that story are a different story, different day)
This was a fairly new place that had opened up only a couple months prior to me working there. With the weeks to come, I had this place open until 2am on the weekends rather than closing at 11pm. I also had a pretty regular crowd- the usual fells to pregame before going into the club on the next block, and the usual ladies that came in from the club that wanted a great drink without paying $15 a pop. They also liked that I was fast and there was plenty of breathing room at the bar as opposed to the club.
I had all kinds of people walking into the bar to see me. People leaving to go on cruises to Alaska out of the port in Seattle, then some of the same ones coming back. People that knew me from other bars I worked at in the area that wanted to come hang out as I was slinging drinks.
Anyway, back to the purpose of this story- the reason I bartend. I had a couple gals that came in one evening, already a little loud and went straight for the bathroom. We had a policy at that place, so I went in after them and just said, "Hey ladies what's up?"
"Hey girl, we had to pee sooo baddd!!"
"Well that's cool. Just as long as you come pay mama a visit at the bar. Can't leave me without having a drink.
"Yeah girl, yeah!"
I left the gals to their business, not really thinking they would come up to the bar and just dip out. It was close to closing time on a Friday night, so I began cleaning and didn't think much else of it.
I was wrong.
Both gals came and sat down and had some $5 shots with me- an idea I had when I discovered that the bar had a lot of left over alcohol from the last bar that resided in its place and the owners had given me free reign to get rid of it.
The gals sat there and chopped it up with me for a while. Eventually the gals had to leave but promised they'd be back for me and said they'd enjoyed their stay.
They left out and I was in the process of counting my bank when some Pharrell Williams mother fucker comes walking in with some night walker. "Hey honey, we're closed." I said, gesturing around at the fact not a soul was here and most all lights were off except the bar lights. Shit even the music was off. Dead.
"Your friends out there said you could hook me up." He pointed a finger back at the door but continued to walk toward the bar. Anorexic Nicki Minaj didn't seem phased by her surroundings a bit and just took a stool at the bar. At this time, the owner came out of the office and stood there a moment to see what I would do.
"Y'all can always come back and see me tomorrow, baby, I'm already counting my bank."
"We don't want much, just a couple shots of patron." He threw two twenties on the bar top and looked deep into Nicki's eyes, smiling.
"You know you just gave me $40?" I look at him with pinched eyebrows.
"It's good right?" He waved his hand at the money, still not looking at me.
I look to my owner. He shrugs.
"Chilled or straight?"
"Straight."
"You want a lime, baby?" I said, lookin at the little Bambi to Pharrell's right.
"Yes, please." She spoke up.
I poured two decent shots, salted with a lime. The guy downed his, but Bambi winced, not finishing her full shot in one gulp, and a little dribbling down the side of her mouth. She wiped it off so delicately with a thumb.
"Here's for the shots," and Pharrell hands me another $20.
My inside poor kid was doing the Shmurda.
My outter bartender took the $20 with grace and gave him his change for the shots which he pocketed. I pocketed the beginning $40.
"Y'all are welcome to stay until I'm done cleaning up."
He talked, she giggled, they say, it was lovely.
My owner walks up to me, "Give them another round on the house. Tell them thanks for hooking up my bartender."
I did just so. Pharrell hands me another $20 tip and makes a toast at the owner and thanked him.
I made sixty fucking dollars in less than five minutes and I didn't have perform fellatio in the alleyway. That's what's up.
Either way, hope y'all enjoyed, keep reading for my other random stories and updates!
I had been living in Seattle for four days, got tired of waiting around for a job, went to the library to print out resumes to go door to door to bars and get a job. Starting out with eight, I had my very last one in hand and walked up to a fancy looking little place, "Are y'all hiring for a bartender?"
"Yes. Can you show up in two hours for your first shift?"
"Yes."
Boom. That's how I started working in Seattle. (The full details of that story are a different story, different day)
This was a fairly new place that had opened up only a couple months prior to me working there. With the weeks to come, I had this place open until 2am on the weekends rather than closing at 11pm. I also had a pretty regular crowd- the usual fells to pregame before going into the club on the next block, and the usual ladies that came in from the club that wanted a great drink without paying $15 a pop. They also liked that I was fast and there was plenty of breathing room at the bar as opposed to the club.
I had all kinds of people walking into the bar to see me. People leaving to go on cruises to Alaska out of the port in Seattle, then some of the same ones coming back. People that knew me from other bars I worked at in the area that wanted to come hang out as I was slinging drinks.
Anyway, back to the purpose of this story- the reason I bartend. I had a couple gals that came in one evening, already a little loud and went straight for the bathroom. We had a policy at that place, so I went in after them and just said, "Hey ladies what's up?"
"Hey girl, we had to pee sooo baddd!!"
"Well that's cool. Just as long as you come pay mama a visit at the bar. Can't leave me without having a drink.
"Yeah girl, yeah!"
I left the gals to their business, not really thinking they would come up to the bar and just dip out. It was close to closing time on a Friday night, so I began cleaning and didn't think much else of it.
I was wrong.
Both gals came and sat down and had some $5 shots with me- an idea I had when I discovered that the bar had a lot of left over alcohol from the last bar that resided in its place and the owners had given me free reign to get rid of it.
The gals sat there and chopped it up with me for a while. Eventually the gals had to leave but promised they'd be back for me and said they'd enjoyed their stay.
They left out and I was in the process of counting my bank when some Pharrell Williams mother fucker comes walking in with some night walker. "Hey honey, we're closed." I said, gesturing around at the fact not a soul was here and most all lights were off except the bar lights. Shit even the music was off. Dead.
"Your friends out there said you could hook me up." He pointed a finger back at the door but continued to walk toward the bar. Anorexic Nicki Minaj didn't seem phased by her surroundings a bit and just took a stool at the bar. At this time, the owner came out of the office and stood there a moment to see what I would do.
"Y'all can always come back and see me tomorrow, baby, I'm already counting my bank."
"We don't want much, just a couple shots of patron." He threw two twenties on the bar top and looked deep into Nicki's eyes, smiling.
"You know you just gave me $40?" I look at him with pinched eyebrows.
"It's good right?" He waved his hand at the money, still not looking at me.
I look to my owner. He shrugs.
"Chilled or straight?"
"Straight."
"You want a lime, baby?" I said, lookin at the little Bambi to Pharrell's right.
"Yes, please." She spoke up.
I poured two decent shots, salted with a lime. The guy downed his, but Bambi winced, not finishing her full shot in one gulp, and a little dribbling down the side of her mouth. She wiped it off so delicately with a thumb.
"Here's for the shots," and Pharrell hands me another $20.
My inside poor kid was doing the Shmurda.
My outter bartender took the $20 with grace and gave him his change for the shots which he pocketed. I pocketed the beginning $40.
"Y'all are welcome to stay until I'm done cleaning up."
He talked, she giggled, they say, it was lovely.
My owner walks up to me, "Give them another round on the house. Tell them thanks for hooking up my bartender."
I did just so. Pharrell hands me another $20 tip and makes a toast at the owner and thanked him.
I made sixty fucking dollars in less than five minutes and I didn't have perform fellatio in the alleyway. That's what's up.
Either way, hope y'all enjoyed, keep reading for my other random stories and updates!
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