cocaine

Our room is clean and surrounded by windows. We don't get Gollum drinkers - those afraid of light, those who drink to forget the world. Usually we get customers who want to meet and chat. Fun groups requiring little shepherding on my part.

Into the midst of one such group last evening entered Overly Tanned. She's mid fifties, unapologetically burnt orange with hair set in bronze. Handsome. She kisses the guys and kiss-kisses the girls. Talking, greeting, smiling, repeating herself, laughing. She orders and excuses herself to the Ladies Room. Back in a flash and she drains half her drink in one go. Without asking if she's dining I lay down a menu. She takes the hint, points, and I ring in her food. The slip reads, Rush, por favor.

She leaves for the powder room and reappears. Now she's touching a married guy on his knee and laughing. Now she's complaining that her just poured drink hasn't been refilled. I start to freeze her out. Ignore her, handle other customers, handle tickets for the servers, polish glasses, anything to beg for time. She goes back to the Ladies Room just as her food arrives.

(The Day Bartender claims he's frozen her out for 30 minutes and I believe him. She asked him for another drink and he said, One minute, without looking up. For 30 minutes they engaged in a battle of wills, a not-staring contest. Eventually the need for alcohol triumphed and she blinked for another bar.)

OT returns without a word and the freeze continues. My friend Y says she knows her 2 year old son is "ruining something" when he's out of sight and quiet. I look over and OT is eating arugula with her hands. As an aside, our menu is traditional. We don't serve arugula on the cob. She should be using a fork and the rest of the bar knows it. You can sense the shift in sympathy and judgment from OT to the bartender. The regulars are ready for her to leave and they expect me to expedite it.

Fortunately she asks for another drink. "Sorry, OT, we're out of Bailey's. Would you like a glass of wine?" I know she'll decline. When she's on a coke, vodka and Bailey's bender she refuses to downshift. She considers, computing how many glasses of wine she'd have to drink to compensate for the loss of 80 proof vodka cut with 34 proof liqueur. "No thanks, I'll just settle and move on." Nice as can be.

Overheard

"Hey, man!" Customer passing DL in the Alley
"How's it going?" DL, slapping customer on the back
Who's that?" Bill
"I have no idea." DL, wishing the narrow room didn't force such intimate encounters

Jealousy Factor

My customers leave to go home and call their Mexican surgeons.