Door Guy Chronicles - 2/8/2013

I’ve developed a routine of eating a fried chicken dinner every Friday before I go into work and it might be the best damn thing I do all week. 

I get the “Dinner Special” from La Beau Market around 6:30pm, along with a Mexican Coke; giving myself an ample hour, once I’m finished, to digest, zone out and fully recover before I need to be at the bar.  I credit this ritual for being the reason why I am such a ray of light every Friday evening.

Saturdays, I’m a total dickhole.  Cranky from an early buzz that has since worn off, a lack of rest from the night before and under-nourished; I literally annoy myself. 

Ah, but Friday; Friday I am a goddamned peach.  And you better believe that positivity and warmth is passed along to the bar patrons and neighbors of Nob Hill.

So thank you La Beau; your fried chicken, grilled veggies and perfect dollop of mac n cheese are literally making this community a better place.  Only on Friday though.

Now check this out:

As I sat at my little doorguy outpost Friday I noticed a girl looking over at me several times as I glanced across the bar to make sure everything was cool.  She finally came over and said she needed to tell someone about the current predicament she was in.
 
This is the type of shit that makes my night. 

She explained how she was at the bar to meet a her ex-boyfriend, whom she had broken up with during the Super Bowl (via text) – this was to be the real-deal breakup and closure conversation.  Only the man she was waiting to meet was running late (hence the glances toward my general direction) and she was tripping balls, deciding what to say, how to say it, controlling emotions, not wanting to be “that girl.” 

I felt for her and appreciated being included in on the drama.  I bought her a shot and told her about the money I had on the NBA game we were watching on the TV, hopefully playing a welcome distraction. 

Anyway, homeboy shows up an hour and a half late WITH ANOTHER WOMAN!  And to add insult to injury, they go sit at the bar a couple seats from where our damsel in distress awaited and almost completely ignore her.  I know it was him because she looked at me at the door and gave me one of those “OM-FUCKING-G” looks when the dude walked in. 
She exited furiously, then came back and shoulder-tapped the dude and politely, yet sternly, asked for five minutes outside.  30 minutes later they both walked back in, both flustered, and she came up to me and said thanks, I gave her a hug and she went on her way. 

Hooray for shit going down in other people’s lives in front of me!