Drama Overdosing

So I guess after 2 weeks in paradise (aka, the Pub), we got issues. Mad issues.

Wednesday through Friday went well, despite Friday being slow (we were down to $6,000 in sales versus $9,000), I was stressing over school work and almost emotionally shipwrecked from drinking last Saturday night.

Sunday though, oh bloody Sunday:

A waiter at one of our town’s highest echelons of dining is good friends with several Pub people and stops in at least once a week. This time, though, people from him and the nework of other go-to local places invaded the Pub:

(1) According to him, DD’s husband is a scumbag, while she says he’s awesome, and he wound up tirading about alleged scumbag.

(2) According to him, watch out for Eiffel and don’t trust Momma Bear. This kinda impacted me because I see Momma Bear as being very honest and transparent about her decisions in managing and dealing with money, so, voted least likely to steal/screw over. According to the waiter, she pads her checks to boost sales and tip percentages.

(3) One of the other resto people that sat down and chatted with DD after she got off work wound up reducing her to lots of tears by apparently discussing rumors about her in my town’s cui-scene. I was trying to comfort her and was shocked at the rumors spreading about her, some of it was b.s. (she’s a slut, does guys in the bathroom) and some of it was thievery (pads checks and tips)

(4) Peach stopped by for dinner with her man and it was kinda somber, he’s off to the other coast for work for the next month,

(5) We were dead,

(6) Dean Martin was bitching about Momma Bear’s apparent disrespect for him (since he got promoted from barbacking to bartending, some of us still have trouble treating him as one when he’s the other for that shift), 

(7) On top of this, everyone has walking viral pneumonia or is recovering from/coming down with it.

(8) the waiter clearly being head over heels with her and hating her husband, and going into how awful he is (but DD claims to be seriously in love with him, he loves her, and if anything is wrong in their marriage, it’s her fault…..oh wait, could be internalized abuse scripts here)

(9) Eiffel’s reputation for having worked in THE established drug den in our town for almost a decade, this kinda bolsters any accusations of illegal activity on her end or her closing out the money at the end of the night (Friday night’s drawer apparently came up $100 short when it was reset, so, BAM I’m allegedly out $33 despite the fact no one asked me to verify the drawer, which I will be demanding to do from now on whether I’m lead bartender or not)

(10) Our complaints about not having specs for everything (shift change, rolling silver, daily cleaning, doing the money, sidework, scheduling, walkthroughs, etc.)

BUT (!) Momma Bear wound up giving me a big hug and encouraged me to stay far away from anything tempting me to drink or anyone (like a friend I chose to hang out with despite getting very bad vibes from him). So, life goes on: I let myself and others down, but I thank God that it wasn’t extreme: I didn’t do drugs, go on a violent rampage, have unprotected sex, get mugged, etc. It also taught me that I’m not invincible. I work in a bar but I can’t be in the nightlife in any way now, it’s just too easy. I want to feel normal, but normal is certainly different when I am in a meeting than in a club. I need to embrace my sustaining faith and my need to be a daylighter. I hadn’t been doing so for the last week, so no surprise I slipped up.

Much love to y’all!


About Malachi the Drink Slinger

Finally transferring to that four year school in January, my goals made, my life set, the blinders dropped, my past signed and sealed, my future bright and airy, a writer, a thinker, a feeler, someone who is enthralled by beauty, an artist worth slightly more than two shits, a lover, a fighter, a person on the way to become the person I have always wanted to be....

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