The Peanut Gallery

We have a group of regulars who, particularly on the weekend, stake out a spot at the end of the bar and stay until close (or near it) chatting and drinking. For the most part, they're men in their fifties from a smattering of professions: lawyer, artist, bartender, etc. They're quite pleasant and entertaining. Nice to have around, especially last night.

Last night I had a number of people being irritating, and then two guys be outright jerks. The owners have cut off the AC. Last night it was hot inside (the thermostat averaged 76 degrees all night) and rainy and cool outside. I opened the back door. Somebody closed it. I opened it again. Somebody closed it. I opened it. On my way back down the hall, two guys standing at the bar look at me and one says, "We keep closing the door 'cause we're cold and you keep opening it. We're just going to close it again. You're just hot because you're working." Isn't that a lovely thing to say?

Even better, everybody at that end of the bar, i.e. the gang of regulars and a couple of out-of-town guys who were camped out and chatting with the regulars, saw the exchange. A bit later, after the guys had wandered off for a while, John P. said, "That guy was an asshole." One of the out-of-towners made a similar comment. I felt quite vindicated. The nice thing about most regulars, they tend to get attached to the staff and snark right along with us about the jerks.

The gang was also nice to have last night because by midnight I had no tables and they helped keep me from getting too insanely bored.
Nathan: Hey Ali, what's a dangling participle?
Me: Um...
I couldn't remember. Yes, I'm an English major. Yes, I took a whole semester of Grammar & Syntax, but I have a hard time remembering the names of stuff. Anyhow, I got online and looked it up, then we had a mini grammar lesson as I told Nathan and Bob what it was. Bob was in classic form last night, telling everybody to "Oh, shut the f* up," in that friendly, nonchalant way he has.

Nick, the presumed gay fellow who hugged me a while back, came upstairs for some popcorn and asked if I would get it for him because "that machine scares me."

At one point, the conversation came around to religion. Someone was asking the out-of-towners if they were Catholic, the one said he wasn't Catholic, but was a Jesus fan. Nathan added, "That Jesus (spanish pronunciation), he was smoking some dope." Apparently, the idea of Jesus as a stoner was appealing.

At another point, Nathan, John, and Bob were talking to one of the out-of-towners about women, and after warning the guy away from his teenage daughter, Nathan said that she looks like him.
Me: Does she have a moustache too?
Nathan: No (eye roll). She looks just like me, except she's blonde and blue-eyed. I guess I was on bottom.
Me: I didn't need to know that.
Nathan: (pointing to me)Look, I made her blush!
What can I say? I blush easily. Sue me. In any event, Nathan was entertained.

Even though these regulars are generally sit-at-the-bar regulars, rather than my regulars, I still like them and go out of my way to chat with them. If you ever come to my bar around eleven or later on a Friday or Saturday night, I'd recommend sitting by the end of the bar near the popcorn machine. It's a good spot.