It’s my “serve”…

Hey, welcome back, dear reader, you’re here just in time. I need an opinion. See, your friendly bartender has this crazy theory and he needs a friendly ear to test it out on. You know, to give him a yea or a nay. It’s all about heaven and how the hell you get there.

I know, I know, not what you were expecting. Heck, I wasn’t expecting it either but I was standing here cutting some limes just now when this crazy thought just popped into my head. Here, let me get your drink first ’cause I don’t want to get distracted once I get into this. Maker’s on the rocks, right? Good.

Okay, here’s the theory…

According to many of these spiritual disciplines and more than a few Bible entries, the surest way to heaven is to serve others. Like this Mother Teresa for example, I think she’s already got a foot and a half in the door. And look at the ones who are already in… Frank from Assisi, Terry from Avila, and Cathy, of course, from Siena… they all spent their lives in the mode of serving others. Why even Dylan espoused this message when he sang “You Gotta Serve Somebody”, not that Bobby’s rockin’ under a halo. But the point according to most is simply this… serving others is how you get into heaven.

Well if that is indeed the case… “we gotta serve somebody”… then my job by it’s very description puts me in. I’m a server! I pour therefore I serve, no? And just because I pick up tips for my service shouldn’t stand in the way of canonization. Hell, even the Apostles had a tip sack when they bounced around. Wow! You’re ready for a refill already? Sorry, man, I know this is heady shit but I gotta get this out. Hang on. Okay, here you go, Maker’s rocks, my friend. Now, where was I? Oh yeah… here’s the big part… the part where I’m not just serving drinks but I’m serving mankind in the bargain. Like in those beatitudes or platitudes or some damn thing I heard or read somewhere. To prove it let’s do a check list.

And He said… “Comfort the sick.” Well, dear reader, I can’t tell you how often it’s been that your friendly bartender has obliterated some of the the nastiest hangovers in New York City with one of the best Bloody Mary’s in New York City. And how many Bar-land hic-cups he’s cured by serving his fool-proof Angostura-lemon concoction. Inestimable! So… comforting the sick? {Check}

And He said… “Embolden the meek.” Got it covered. For how many times has one of my servings bolstered the courage of the meek… has enabled some guy who is trembling in his boots to walk across the room and say hi to some woman? Well I’ll tell you how many times, one hell of a lot! Yes, many is the night my stiff Rob Roy has turned some stiff named Rob or Roy into Don Juan. Or one of my perfectly mixed Cosmopolitan’s has turned some shy country girl into a real Cosmopolitan. So… emboldening the meek? {Check}

And He said… “Give succor to the poor.” Got this one covered as well. At least once a month one of my regulars (and you know who you are) hands me a card which when swiped comes up DECLINED! But being your most friendly bartender (St. Scribbler to be more precise) he doesn’t put that person on the spot or direct him back to the dishwasher, he simply says, “No sweat, I’ll hold your tab.” Positively beatific! So… giving succor to the poor? {Check}

And He said… “Comfort the poor in spirit.” Well, Holy Christ indeed, at least once a night your friendly bartender, after pouring for the poor in spirit, listens while the poor in spirit pours out his life. And does your friendly bartender ever turn his back on this person… this person with myriad problems for which he seeks counsel? Of course not. He stays (and in saintly fashion) listens to the man. And listens… and listens… and listens… until this person who was poor in spirit becomes richer from the experience. Or in some cases downright giddy if the truth be known. So… comforting the poor in spirit? {Check}

And He said… “Abide your enemies.” Covered like a blanket. At least once a week some customer comes in (not a regular, thank God) who tries to turn your bar into his court. You know, the customer who’s widely thought of in Bar-land as an asshole. He’s loud, he’s opinionated, and in general someone you want to run right out the door. But… but… instead of 86-ing, he abides. And abides… and abides… and {Grrrr!} abides! Because that’s the gig, dear reader, the “hospitality industry”. Yes, unless Sir Asshole breaks some rule he can’t be thrown out just for being… well, an asshole! So… abiding his enemies? {Check} and fucking {Check}

Okay, I’m finished. Of course there’s a hell of a lot more to this but the point, I think, has been made. And that point is this. Simply by doing his job and doing it well, your friendly bartender might’ve served himself into heaven. Whaddaya’ think? Woops, empty glass again… will ya’ have another? You won’t? You’re kidding. Two and done? That’s a switch! What’s that? Instead of sitting here drinking you’d rather go out and serve your fellow man. Damn, that’s a fine idea… give me sixteen bucks and we’ll call it a day!

Over and out from Bar-land… see ya’ next Saturday.