Good news, I’ve officially quit biting my nails, so now they’re actually growing into claws… which brings me one step closer to my lifelong goal of becoming a grizzly bear.

George Clinton at Common Ground

Last night I went to Common Ground in Downtown Lansing for the first time.  I never went before because I never really wanted to see any of the acts they booked (at least not enough to pay $30 for it).  But, this year when I heard they booked George Clinton and Parliament Funkadelic, quite possibly my favorite band ever, I immediately took the day off work.  It was well worth the $35 ticket (after processing) and the $6 beers.  I saw an amazing number of people that I knew, listened to fantastic music, and got to get right up front to see George Clinton himself for the first time.  Truly an amazing experience.  My voice is a little rough today, but I have a brand new P-Funk t-shirt and some great pictures.  All in all, it kinda made me think I should go to more of these city-wide events.

Every week there are good bar-goers and there are lousy bar-goers.  Let’s discuss some of both from this week.

Please, people, I’m begging you.  What is it about going to a bar that renders you completely inept at speaking the English language?  These are actual exchanges that I was forced to involve myself in at work this week:

“Would you like another Long Island?”
“Yeah.”
[after building an entire Long Island right in front of him and handing it to him]
“There you are, $5.50 please.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s a Long Island.”
“Oh I just wanted a shot of Jager…”

Really?  You asked for and made me mix a Long Island for you, and you watched me do it, and now I have to dump it because you’re an idiot?  What part of “would you like another Long Island” was unclear?

“Hi there, what can I get for you?”
“I’ll have a martini.”
“Any particular kind of gin?”
“No, just well is fine.”
[commence chilling glass, mixing standard martini, garnish with olive, present to customer, money changes hands, end of transaction.... I thought.]
“Ma’am?” (While we’re on the topic, don’t ever call a bartender “ma’am.”  It will never get you a good response.)
“Yes?”
“This isn’t what I asked for.”
“No?  You asked for a martini, correct?”
“Yeah, this tastes like, piney.”
“That’s just the taste of the gin.”
“Oh I didn’t want gin, I wanted vodka.”

Oh look, now I have to dump another perfectly good drink because you didn’t know what the hell you were ordering.  When I asked if you had a preference of gin, that was probably a good time to specify that you wanted a vodka martini.  Martinis are made with gin, unless otherwise specified.  Know what you’re ordering.

I would also like to add the following tips to make sure your next evening out at the bar doesn’t end up the way it did for a few of my other customers this week:

1. Never try to bribe the bartender into giving you another drink after 2:00 am.  Saying, “I’ll tip you big!” usually means $1.00, which is not big, and does not outweigh the risk of losing my job and being fined thousands of dollars for breaking liquor laws.  You know when last call is.  Be prepared for it.
2. You might think it makes you look like a baller to buy a round of 8 shots for you and your whole party, but ordering 8 mixed shots from the bartender and leaving NO tip pretty much ensures that you will forever be served last for as long as that bartender remembers you.  And I will remember you.
3. If you’re a deadbeat, you know you’re a deadbeat.  It’s not a surprise to you.  Don’t ask me to run your defunct credit card 50 times while you finish your unpaid-for drink, and don’t act surprised when I pour out said drink and kick you out of the bar.

Now that we’ve covered the Hall of Shame for the week, I would like to commend a few people for their outstanding performance as upstanding bar-going citizens.

1. The Responsible Birthday Designated Driver.  At first, she seemed a bit sheepish about ordering a Shirley Temple, but I’m betting she was well taken care of the next day when all her drunken friends woke up and realized that she was the only thing standing between them and jail for the majority of the night.  On my side of things, I appreciate The Responsible D.D. for additional reasons.  She understands when her friends have had too many, and saves me the trouble of trying to communicate that fact to them.  She shepherds her drunken allies and convinces them that it IS a good idea to leave the bar after last call, so I don’t have to chase them out with a bar towel and a corkscrew.  Thank you, Responsible D.D., you have earned my respect.
2. The Prepared Drinker.  When there are 10 people at the rail waiting to order drinks, and there’s only one of them that is looking at me, I know I have met my Prepared Drinker for the evening.  He decided what he wanted to drink before he got my attention and was patiently ready to order when I made eye contact with him.  He efficiently ordered his drink, had his money in his hand, and skipped in front of 9 other people because of this.  Thank you, Prepared Drinker, you are a role model for the other 9 people at the bar who could have been served much sooner, had they been prepared like you.
3. The Pacifist.  “Hey man, we’re just trying to have a good time.  Why don’t you have a drink with us and have a good time too?”  When a belligerent drunk approaches your table and tries to cause conflict, do not provoke him.  Encourage him to loosen up and have a good time.  Thank you, Pacifist, I was able to make 10 more drinks in the time I saved from not having to chase out the belligerent drunk.

Here’s to the D.D., the Prepared Drinker, and the Pacifist this week, I hope to see all three of you, and people like you, again next week!

In other news, I’m going official: Technorati Profile