Monday, November 23, 2009

Fagin the Jew (it's the name of a book, relax)

Hold your applause; please, please... no pictures.

Back by popular demand, here I am, once again ranting and raving for your listening pleasure.  You see all the shit I do for you!!!!!  I know I've been gone for a long time, and that I haven't always been there for you, I haven't always been faithful to you, but....  you can't be mad at me..... just look at me!  HA!

Anyway, things are different now, they're good, they're bad, and there's the one ugly chick I work with...

For the 12 of you that read my blog, if you don't know (if you care) I'm no longer in Windsor, I'm not longer at behind the bar at Woody's Outhouse.  I've officially retired my Windsor Bartending career with a very impressive, un-defeated record.  Now, I'm not saying anyone should hang my jersey up on a wall (I had a jersey?) or retire my bottle opener, but I hope that you do miss me, because I miss you!

I miss standing behind the pine, half in the bag, watching the crowd; watching the girls, watching Adam (usually thinking 'what the fuck is he humping?).   I miss the life, the party, the hookers and cocaine (I added that last part for suspense purposes.  There were no hookers, and not much cocaine, I just felt as though I was losing you guys a bit there)  But really.. I do miss it, the people, the party, everything.   I met some of the greatest people of my life during my 5-year stint in the Dirty W, to all of you (and you know the fuckers I'm talking about), your so dope-boy fresh!!!!

Anyway, I'm in London now, clean cut, less drunk, and having a fucking blast.  I'm from London originally and all my friends are still kickin' around.  It's nice to be back amongst the boys and girls I grew up with!!!   As you all probably assume, I AM back behind the bar in London, but in a very different way.  I'm no longer littering my bartending time with babysitting 19-year old American girls who don't know how to handle Canadian beer!  The place(s) I'm bartending at now are much different.  We have 8 different styles of wine glass, 25 different scotches, and an average cocktail price of over $6.  It isn't as intense, its not as loud, not as exciting as the nightclub scene, but the tips are good, the waitresses are hot, and the other difference is, for me, unforgettable.

Basically its bartending, back to the basics, back to pre-prohibition bartending, the classics.  Everyday I'm making drinks like the Manhattan, the Old Fashioned, Classic Martinis, and and a ton of draft beer.  I'm at a private golf course here right now and I love it.  The members are older, more weathered.  They've experienced decades of drinking, they know what they want, they know how they want it, and the demand perfection.  It's a huge pain in the ass making perfect drinks everytime, with complicated recipes, and ingredients I'm not used to using.  However, it's pretty legit.  I'm learning a ton of shit and I'm loving it!

I know this is a long one (that's what she said?), but I've got a pretty good story for you today.   The moral.... learn your limits and try your hardest not to become a crazy drunk woman chasing me down the street!

Me, my roommate 'Bolo' (through these blogs I'm sure you will come to know and loathe him as I do, and his girlfriend were walking home from getting 3pm breakfast.  We're walking down the sidewalk and as we come to London's one of condemned downtown stores, Bolo sees a book in the window called 'Fagin the Jew'.  Naturally, he reads the book aloud, I mean... it's a weird title right...  Anyway, as he's shouting out "Fagin the Jew' we walk past a man and a woman who clearly spent the morning drinking out of a brown paper bag.  The man gets offended and asks 'what did you call me'  to which Aaron replies that it was a misunderstanding, there is a book with that title in the window.  Not having any of our excuses for such a rude insult, the woman in a sort of slow motion, gangly, hunchback of Notre Dame-ish movement comes runnning toward us.  With what seemed like a tremendous effort on her part, she yelled out 'are you tryina cause trouble for me?'  As were kind of giggling in shock, she runs up and she try's to kick Bolo.   Aside from it being the poorest excuse for a kick that I have ever seen, it was also about as threatening as Mickey Rourke dressed up as a ballerina. 

After kind of pushing the woman off, she Smeagles away to her knight in dirty flannel armour, and we continue on our way....

Crazy old drunk woman....  Epic!

So, as always, I'll leave you fuckers with some wisdom but not of my own, you aren't quite ready for that yet.

“But the greatest love--the love above all loves, Even greater than that of a mother... Is the tender, passionate, undying love, Of one beer drunken slob for another.”
--Irish love ballad

Rule # :49. If you do a shot, finish it. If you don't plan to finish it, don't accept it.

Peace