Guest Blog!

I'm so excited to announce that I was asked to be a guest blogger for Exquisitely Geek! It is a blog site on all things geeky while being chic and fabulous! Love the site. Check out my guest blog and follow their fantastic blog! 

http://www.exquisitelygeek.com/2015/11/guest-blogger-day-i-was-wonder-woman.html?m=1

The Short Bus Driver.

I am sitting at the desk in Rockin Rodeo's office finishing up an order with the local coffee company and in walks my manager saying "It is tippity tap time". I then get excited, grab my gear and run down the stairs. We drive to this bar, Whats on Tap II, where I am currently working at now. We walk in and are immediately greeted by this rather large gentleman sitting at the end of the bar. In front of him is a laptop with his current fantasy football lineup. He has a large coke in one hand and a Marlboro Light in his other. His way of greeting us was a little aggravating, especially since it took us several hours to accomplish our paper work at the club. He says, "Oh man! My paperwork took me sooooo long to finish. It took me ten minutes as opposed to five minutes today". Of course we say something along the lines of screw you and exchange bear hugs and sit next to the manager of tap, Big Mike. It was a tradition to go there every Monday for lunch. We would down a few Blue Moons, eat a wrap, play golden tee, and talk mad shit to Big Mike. It seemed like the crew we would go with got bigger and better each week. He always accommodated us and made us feel at home. He even tolerated our sappy songs by the Avett Brothers and Jeff Buckley.
A few months pass and I quit Rockin Rodeo by walking out mid-shift. It was very childish and immature on my part, but I felt that it was right to do just that at the time. There was a lot of turmoil and chaos within the company even trailing back to the corporate office. Ultimately, I had enough. I went through a few month period of being jobless and wallowing in my misery. One day, I get a phone call  from my long lost friend, Big Mike. He asks me if I will start working at the Tap. I immediately said yes and I once again had a job. He was my savior at that point. Christmas was right around the corner and I needed to catch up on bills, buy presents for my kid, and get back on track.
Starting at the Tap was a huge culture shock for me. I learned to tend bar in a high volume setting. I never had to speak to my customers other than "What can I get ya?". Tap was a whole different beast. People expected me to talk, learn about them, and engage in long discussions with them. Mike helped me with that. He told people that I was a different breed than what they were used to. I was the "hippy" of the place with more liberal views than what my guests were used to. In attempt to comfort me he would say "Oh my little red velvet cupcake squall, you are so pretty!". He always made fun of me for wearing my Toms, which he said they were Native American Moccasins and my little nickname was born.
Shortly after starting to work with him, I found out I was pregnant. I was a little scared and nervous because I worried he thought that I was hiding it from him. I dropped the bomb and he replied with, "Oh you are having a little beaner squall!". Mike called my boyfriend Ben, "beaner". All he asked was for me to keep it from my bar guests as long as I could. On one busy Saturday night, I started bleeding. I called my coworker, Goose, to come take over my shift so I could go to the hospital. The whole time I was at the hospital, Big Mike was text messaging me to check on us. He was out of town at that time, but he made it a point to make sure I was okay. I ended up miscarrying the baby and he was so supportive. Mike wanted me to take off a couple weeks to heal and get my head right. Naturally, I only took a couple days off and was back at it. As I walk in to my shift, he greets me with the biggest hug I have ever received and I immediately thought about how lucky I was to have such a supportive boss.
As time passed, I noticed Big Mike getting a little more depressed by the day. He was a lost soul caught up in the service industry. He had been tending bar for about twenty years and never got out. Mike had a nursing degree, was very intelligent, and extremely fit when getting into the scene. The money was good, so he never got out. Over the span of twenty years, he put on about two-hundred pounds, got extremely unhealthy, and let himself go. At  one point, he tried to diet but the results weren't happening as fast as he wanted and then gave up.
The only time that I ever saw him happy was on Saturday mornings. He would tend bar during that day and would have a lot of his friends come in to goof off with. They coined themselves as members of the short bus. Mike was the driver of the bus and they were his passengers. The guys were all a bit older, crazy, and so much fun to be around. The short bus would get day drunk and go home to bask in their intoxication that night. I would come in for shift change and all of the guys would be in tears from laughter and stumbling around the bar. It was definitely a scene to watch!
Ultimately, Big Mike left the bar to get healthy, leave the bar scene, and pursue a different life. However, the rule of the bar scene is that once you are in it, it is hard to get out. He then picked up a management gig at the Buffalo Wild Wings. Ben and I would visit him when we could, and he would return the favor. The last time I saw him he popped into the bar to visit me, and we talked shit to one another. Unfortunately, I was pretty busy so I didn't get to talk to him as much as I would like. I did, however, get to tell him that Ben and I were expecting again and he was overcome with joy.
Several weeks pass, and I am getting settled in after attending a close friend's father's funeral. I receive a phone call from my coworker and then manager, Goose. He was sobbing and I could barely make out what he was saying. It was raining heavily outside, and the mood got worse. Goose told me that Big Mike just passed away. I then grab my big belly and slowly melt into my couch. I was speechless. Big Mike died on his bathroom floor from having a heart attack. All I could do was say I am sorry to him and then sit in silence for a long, ominous time. I did not attend his funeral. I didn't want my last memory of him to be in a big wooden box. I wanted my last memory of him to be him sitting on the other side of the bar, talking shit while drinking a coke and smoking a Marlboro Light.
The day of his funeral we held a memorial service in his honor at the Tap. The bar was filled with a hundred of his friends from all portions of his life. We each spoke of our greatest memories of him and drowned in beer. I didn't drink because I was pregnant. Everyone drank plenty for me. We closed with a large toast, led by Goose. He gave a beautiful, heart-felt toast, and everyone took a Tuaca bomb in his honor. I poured Big Mike's shot on the floor in his honor.


"Well bud, you beat me out of this hell hole. It's crazy and unexpected to know that you are gone, but I'm sure you are much happier. Hell, it rained the day you died. If that's not proof that you are at peace, than I don't know what will. I hate that you will miss meeting the baby half squall half beaner, but I'll be sure to tell her all about you. You were a great friend, a funny boss, and a wonderful person. Every time I have a blonde moment I will always hear you say, "Oh, my little red velvet cupcake squall, you so pretty." Ha. I'm going to miss you! Have fun coaching a soccer team, dominating fantasy football, and hitting up the green in heaven! Love you, Mikeydoodle!"

I hope his story will be a lesson for all of us. We don't need to settle because it is easier. We need to pursue our goals, our dreams, and not get caught up in a comfort zone. It will lead to our deaths, ill timed, and miserable. Mike taught me to treat bartending as a temporary fix, but to never let it last. He will forever be in our hearts, our minds, and in our booze.

Video!

The Code: Real Talk

*Whenever I do sit down and attempt to write, I always think of Hank Moody. For those of you who aren't familiar with him, he is the protagonist in Showtime's hit, Californication. Hank is self-loathing and wallows in his pity, but has the best intentions throughout the entire series. He is a writer with a routine. Hank sits down at his laptop, pours a glass of scotch, lights a cigarette and ultimately writes a masterpiece.  I have a similar routine, but I replace the scotch with coffee, replace the masterpiece with word vomit, and I sit on my patio (usually).*

I know that most people are aware of the "Bartender Code". For those of you who aren't aware of it, it is a series of unwritten rules that are understood between the bar patron and the bar keep. Look it up on Google. I bet you won't even find it on there. A few examples of that code is: 1) You didn't see ANYTHING 2) You were never here 3)We never discuss the tip, etc. One part of the code bothers me more than the rest. "I didn't see anything". Well, call me crazy, but I did see EVERYTHING. Unfortunately for me, I cannot hit a delete button and erase what occurred most nights. As much as I would like to pop a Xanax and drown in vodka to rid myself of the horrid events of the night, I have responsibilities now. That is not an option.

With the code being in place, it often makes me question my morals. A married couple walks in the bar one night and has a wonderful time. A few days later, the husband comes in, without a ring, and with another woman. A couple days following that, the married couple comes in again. What is so offensive to me is that the guy stares me down hoping that I don't rat him out in any sort of way. I am a bitch to the core, but I would never want to make things worse as well as breaking the code that has been around for hundreds of years. So being the good bartender that I am, I smile and ask for their drink orders. In a sense, I have the upper hand. Their fate was in my hands and I will always have blackmail material. 

I see "adults" ditch their families for the bar. Kids are home fixing their own dinner while mom and dad are drinking a twenty pack of beer each. I also deal with the guy who doesn't have money to pay his bills but will run up a one hundred dollar bar tab drinking the cheapest beer we have to offer. In the bar industry, you deal with the depressed, the lonely, the assholes, and the adulterers. I am no Saint by any means, but you can only see so much.

Do remember that I have been tending bar for about seven years now. It does wear its tole on a person. You see so many things that question your faith in humanity which ultimately makes you question your own morals. I know that I have become a very bitter person because of it. What is unfortunate is that the bitterness sometimes rolls over into my personal life. Many bartenders suffer from the same issue. You start to not trust people at all, relationships often crash and burn, and the only thing that seems to be worth anything is a glass of vodka after work. The Bartender Code is set in place to protect everyone but the bartender.

B.

A New Year: A Better Me.

As the last day or so of this year approaches, I sit and ponder over the past year's events. Man, another year has passed! What is so crazy about it is that I remember the last New Years like it was yesterday. I can remember exactly what I wore, what I ate, and what I wished I could have drank (pregnancy hindered me from that) that evening. This past year has been full of many ups and downs for my family, my friends, and my social media friends. We all have overcome many obstacles and still have yet to recover from them. Babies were born, relationships were put through the ringer, and there were deaths. Oh so many deaths. I was having coffee with a girlfriend of mine and a huge topic of conversation was all of the deaths and births of the year. It truly reminded us how we were just a blip in the circle of life.
Just a blip.

We are blips in this world, located in the solar system, which is in fact, a blip in the universe. What is even more amazing than that is most humans have a strong desire to be more than a tiny blip. We want to be a greater blip, making a bigger impression on this world, that can ultimately change the universe...make it greater. When the New Year rolls around, most people make resolutions. The most common of which is: joining a gym. I have personally been that person. Did that resolution fall through? Of course, just like many others I have set myself throughout the years. This year I chose to do something a little more meaningful. I want to better myself. If I am truly going to be just a blip in the universe, then I might as well be the best blip that I can be. I want to become the person that I was destined to be. I want to be a better mother, a better partner, a better sister, a better friend. That is a start. How can I be a better mother, partner, sister, and friend? That is simple. I have to be a better me! I must love myself, trust others, have more faith in people. I need to write more, draw more, sing, dance, and play. I want my soul to be happy. Therefore I can help others be happy.

Side note: If joining a gym is what can make you happy, then go for it! Don't do it based off of society's expectations. Do it because you know in your heart that it is what is absolutely necessary for self fulfillment.

With the fast paced society that consumes us, we often forget what truly matters in this life. We are all so caught up on bullshit that poisons our existence. It is always money, power, and greed. I often catch myself falling into that trap, but I sure try to pull myself out of it. I plan on fighting the good fight over the next year in hopes that my heart and soul will be a little more fulfilled.

With that rant being said, I hope you all have a wonderful New Years. Expect more blog posts to come.

B.

A Shout Out!

Hey guys! If you didn't already know, I am not the only person who writes based off of their experiences in the service industry. Every person in the industry have stories to tell, but only a few are willing to create some sort of art based off their experiences.

Finch Nissen and Kody Hamlin have created a new television show titled "86'ed". It is a show based off of the quirks and drama of those involved in the service industry. It takes the crazies to deal with the crazies, after all. I wouldn't expect anything but brilliant coming from the two of them! Check out their Facebook page, follow it, and stay tuned! Fun and awesome things are coming in the near future.

https://m.facebook.com/profile.php?id=244029845804641

Working In Wet Pants.

Pregnancy adds a whole knew realm of problems and obstacles when tending bar. I was absolutely determined to get past all obstacles with flying colors. When most women find out they are with child, they immediately quit bar tending and work elsewhere or just stay at home. I was not granted that luxury. Honestly, I was just too stubborn to back down. Quitting was not an option for me because I am money hungry. Also, I like my independence. The worst thing in the world is to rely on someone else to take care of me. It is nice, however, to have that fallback in case things did get to a point where I couldn't work anymore. My boyfriend was very supportive of whatever decision I decided to make. I value myself as a tough chick and nothing will ever keep me from doing what I want to do. With that being said, I was (and did) work until the moment I went in labor.

Just like all pregnant women, I was a little hypersensitive. I was easily stirred up and was not afraid to put people in their place. Most of my regulars have a bit of an entitlement issue, so I was quick to nip that in the bud if I deemed it necessary. I was never afraid to kick anyone out, and I definitely wasn't afraid of conflict. After all, conflict gave me something to write about! For majority of my pregnancy I didn't feel pregnant. I worked hard, never complained, and hid the pregnancy until I was almost eight months pregnant. Fortunately, I am a late bloomer. No one could tell I was pregnant until I hit the third trimester. That is when things started to get interesting.

Like I have mentioned before, pregnancy adds a bunch of problems and obstacles behind the bar. Judgement was a big issue for me. I do live in the middle of the bible belt. A lot of the older customers were not afraid to place judgement on me. I have been called "trashy", "slutty", and have been told that I don't care about my baby, blah, blah, blah. I have also had customers walk out saying that they refuse to be served by a pregnant bartender. At first, it did bother me. I was hurt and would storm home after my shift saying that I couldn't do it anymore. After shaking the bad vibes off, I was still determined to work at my favorite watering hole. Over time I began to ignore the judgmental folks and started to have smart-ass comebacks to get them off of my back. I felt that, if anything, people should respect me for growing a small human in my belly while busting ass behind the bar. I was working on my feet for ten hours straight with no breaks.

Over time I began to get a little more lethargic than usual. The typical weight gain and being "top heavy" started to slow me down a little bit. That wasn't going to stop me, though. Instead, I began to pick up shifts at another bar to help save money for when I go on maternity leave. I would get off of work at 4 am, and was up at 6:30 to take the kiddo to school and take care of business at the home front. I worked on empty fairly often and pushed myself very hard. It was definitely worth it!

Once I hit about nine months pregnant, I developed a master plan with my boyfriend, boss, and co workers. We had a plan for everything: from if I went in labor during a shift to who would cover my shifts for the weeks following that. I am quite fortunate to have amazing coworkers who have been very supportive every step of the way. My regular guests were very supportive as well. They really do treat me like family. The regulars predicted the baby's weight, when and how I would go in to labor, and how long the baby would be. Those old farts were pretty accurate for the most part!

One Saturday night I showed up to work on a mission. I knew that pretty soon I wouldn't be working much longer and that I needed to make as much money as possible. I was bound and determined to be busy and have to work hard. Unfortunately, it wasn't a very busy night. It always seems that the regulars I haven't seen in a while show up on the less busy nights. It is quite convenient because they give me someone to talk to and we can play catch up. One of  my favorites, Don, showed up. We discussed my pregnancy and caught up on each others live's while he sipped on his crown on the rocks. As I was talking to him, I began to feel a small trickle down my leg. I immediately went to the bathroom because I was worried that I was starting to become the pregnant chick who pees on herself. I then resumed my position behind the bar and continued to work. Then, I felt a pretty big gush. Shit. I knew then that my water was breaking. I then quickly ran to the back and called Ben, my boyfriend, to tell him the news. I continued to work while convincing myself that I still had time. Not a single bar patron knew what was going on.

A few minutes later, Ben walks in and sits at my bar. I continue to work, so he just assumes that I had a false alarm. I continued to serve drinks throughout last call, cleaned up behind the bar, and filled out my closing paperwork. My boss shows up to check on me because I sent him a text message informing him that I may need him to close down the bar. Suddenly my pants were soaking wet. I showed Ben my pants and we then raced to the hospital. Just a few hours later, the beautiful Kaydence Avett was born! 

Needless to say, working in wet pants makes for a pretty epic story. My regulars called it! They knew my water would break while I was behind the bar. You've got to love the old and wise.