Door Guy Chronicles - 4/19/2013

Here’s something that’s impossible to do, try living in San Francisco and not drinking on a Saturday when the sun is out.  Even when you’ve fully committed to some sort of booze-less activity, all it takes is the slightest, most half-assed suggestion of maybe, possibly thinking about perhaps getting a beer at some point - and I can’t drop my bullshit plans to go hiking quick enough.

This is a problem when you have to work Saturday nights at 8pm.

This Saturday was particularly terrible and I was doing a pretty terrible job.  By 11pm I was visibly wilting like a drunk flower and was really kind of in trouble.  The kind of trouble where nausea and exhaustion, are just the tip of your hangover setting in, and you still have a couple hours in survival mode before having to do all the gross stuff that’s part of closing a bar.  Then my boss, the owner, handed me a Redbull – and I was almost immediately brought back from the dead.  Not unlike a scumbag Jesus.  Or just a dude named Jesús.

Redbull; other than gamers and people who don’t drink or do drugs and weirdly overcompensate with energy drinks, who woulda thought?

On to the good stuff from the weekend:

• Someone made a Boston Marathon joke.  Very niche audience for that type of “way too soon for a joke” comedy.  I have a feeling the chick he was talking to still banged him though.
• Two couples who had been doing coupley things with one another: happy hour, dinner, hand-holding, etc. – as they walked in, the two dudes hung back and asked if I could hook up peyote.  Seriously, in how many cities does that question casually get thrown around?  Arizona seems pretty weird, so perhaps some terrible city there, but who knows.
• Rule: If you have a San Francisco address on your driver’s license, you do not get to complain about a 1:30AM last call.  You live here, you should know that’s the deal; and so help me god, if you don’t go straight to the bar when I give you this information and fucking dilly-dally instead – get an STD*, please.
• Some dude exited the bar extremely angry as I casually chatted with the owner.  We asked what was wrong, in an attempt to remedy whatever issue this guy was having, and he yelled out, “two girls have been in the bathroom doing coke forever.”  Not really much we could do or say, so we apologized.  I’ve been suspecting that sort of activity on the rise at our bar, but I didn’t want to seem complicit so I acted all aloof in front of the owner, that’s when he told me to check out the top of the aluminum paper towel dispenser in the bathroom at the end of the night.  Sure enough, the most disgusting dried powdery snot glue – you people.

*not one of the terrible ones though, I’m not an animal