On The Corner Of Reflection And Change Streets

As many of you know who have been following this blog for a while, your friendly bartender has not been that of late… your friendly bartender. Okay, “friendly” yes (at least I hope I’ve been), but “bartender” no, as I haven’t poured a drink in over a year. (Ergo the sparse posting.) So why the long time off without any pouring? Call it a planned hiatus that has lazily become a lifestyle, call it an earnest intention to finish a book which is nowhere near finished, or simply call it a time of reflection and change. Or maybe all three. Because who knows why I did what I did (or didn’t do which is more like it!), but that’s what it was and this is what it is right now, which brings me to a crossroads. One that will spirit a whole new adventure or one that will re-stamp my ticket right back to Barland, which sure ain’t a bad thing. All I know is the time has come to get myself off my duff and get something going.

So what are my options?

I thought about joining the circus but I’m told the food is bad, which really pisses me off ’cause I look good in tights! Then I pondered the rodeo circuit into which to cut a new swathe, but doesn’t that inch-thick clown make-up damage your skin? Then there were thoughts of becoming a sage getting rich off of people’s futures, but the turban I felt would surely invite racial profiling. Then finally and most remarkably, in a moment of true heightened fancy, I actually thought of pro wrestling as an option billed as The Mad Mixologist, where all of my bone-crushing holds would be named after cocktails. You know, instead of the familiar Pile Driver, I’d have the Harvey Wallbanger. Instead of the vile Triple Suplex, I’d have the Triple Sec Sleeper (it puts my opponent to sleep in exactly three “secs”). Of course tossing a man across the ring would now be the Singapore Sling, and instead of the classic Body Slam (are you ready for this, dear reader?) I’d have the Alabama Slammer to close out the deal. {Ker-freaking-splat!!!} But alas… despite all this diligent research and my visions of mat supremacy, and several passes in front of a full-length mirror, I was shocked to find that I don’t look good in tights! So no pro wrestling.

So what’s a mother to do, you ask, especially a bad mother – (shut yo’ mouth) like me? Time will tell. But in the meantime, in order to keep this blog alive which is limping along at best, and because I still don’t have a “stick” behind which to stand and observe and later to write about, I’ll have to rely, like mighty Marcel, on “remembrance of things past”, as I did in the previous post, or things present observed from your side of the bar.

Like this ditty that covers both past and present. It’s called “Don’t Assume”…

So I’m watching this TV commercial the other day (Didn’t I start the last post like that? I’m watching too much TV!!!!)), and this spot came on for airline travel or something. Or maybe it pitched a credit card company boasting perks that can make your travel more luxurious, I’m not sure. And the reason I can’t remember is, the spot just pissed me off to the point of distraction. The final scene had a man and a woman sitting at an airport bar, a very upscale airport bar, and the woman dressed in business attire was drinking a bottle of Bud right out of the bottle.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’ve served thousands of women over the years who prefer drinking beer from a bottle, and never gave it a second thought when they did, but this seemed a ball peen hammer on the head given the way she was dressed and where they were sitting. It looked like overkill. But since women were the obvious target audience (for who the hell else could it be?) I let my liberated side kick in (my non-judgmental-equal-rights-for-all side), and let it pass as the copywriter’s version of the”now woman”. But what happened next sent me over the edge. The bartender placed in front of the guy (this guy who’s apparently with her wearing an open shirt and no suit jacket) a pastel green foo-foo drink with a huge wedge of lime clinging to the stem glass. And so now the ball peen hammer is a mighty sledge. And I couldn’t help thinking as they made their point, “Why don’t you put him in a dress and give her a hard hat?!?” But then I remembered…

This couple came into the bar one day, tourists I quickly surmised, and the man said, “Let us have a bottle of Bass and a Cosmo.” (I guess you know where this is going.) So of course I gave the man the Bass and gave the lady the Cosmo, stereotypically assuming and doing so wrongly. And apparently offensively. Because the woman gave me a look that said, “What! Women don’t drink beer?” And the man’s look said, “You sayin’ I’m drinking a girly drink?” (Which to me he was but that’s beside the point.) For the point is don’t assume anymore, especially in this day and age, simply say, “Which of you gets the Cosmo?”

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going back to my television set to see if another commercial will take me to Barland!

Until next time…

8 Responses to “On The Corner Of Reflection And Change Streets”

  1. 1 Comradde PhysioProffe June 5, 2013 at 12:39 pm

    Or maybe the dude was ordering a cosmo with a Bass chaser, and the lady was just along for the conversation? Or vice versa?

  2. 2 scribbler50 June 5, 2013 at 1:06 pm

    Comradde: Nice but no cigar. It is what it was and their looks told me so.
    Thanks, Bro

  3. 3 Irishirritant June 5, 2013 at 4:31 pm

    Then he said “Yes, I think you ordered a girly drink” and that’s when his wrestling career started…
    Thanks for the mid week edition, Good Luck.

  4. 4 M.Lane June 5, 2013 at 5:39 pm

    I don’t worry about things like what the bartender gives me. I’ve even drunk the wrong drink once in a while. So what if they bartender thinks im drinking Bass? Good grief, they should get a life.

    Anyway………..I know you will see the path for you…Just keep your eyes open. We all cant wait to see where it leads you.


  5. 5 unclevinny June 5, 2013 at 5:51 pm

    My drink choices have moseyed all over the map in my lifetime, and I now no longer worry too much about how macho my cocktail selection makes me appear. Except on days when I’m feeling vulnerable and knock-kneed, in which case I loudly order whiskey.

    Can’t wait for your book!

  6. 6 scribbler50 June 5, 2013 at 9:28 pm

    Irish: Hah! The perfect chance to employ the Singapore Sling… right out the door!
    Thanks for the good wishes.

    M.Lane: I can’t wait til I see where it leads me too. Thanks, as always, for stopping by this bar.

    Uncle Vinny: “I now no longer worry too much about how macho my cocktail selection makes me appear.”
    As it should be, Uncle Vinny, as it should be. The drink doesn’t make the man, unless that drink makes the man drunk and unruly.
    Thanks, pal.

  7. 7 Donna B. June 15, 2013 at 12:17 am

    scribbler, your absence from the bar has had a sad, sad impact on me. I’ve sunk to drinking wine from a box and spending my time on Facebook. Help!

  8. 8 scribbler50 June 15, 2013 at 10:25 am

    Donna B: First off and most important… how good it is to hear from you, you were one of my earliest visitors and one of the most loyal. So “hello”, old friend, and welcome back. I’d ask how you’re doin’ but sadly you’ve covered that terrain… boxed wine indeed!!! But as far as a remedy for said condition I don’t know what to say, except to suggest a “boxed” lunch to go with it. 🙂

    But seriously, Donna, I know this blog has lost its immediacy with me not being behind the stick, so all I can say is keeping stopping by and if I can’t put a nice bourbon in your hand as I did in days of yore, maybe what I serve in its stead will slake your thirst. Or at least I hope so.

    All the very best to you and yours, D.B.

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