The Best Friday Ever

Last week, thanks to my worn-outedness on Friday, Brandi said she wouldn't mind letting me leave early tonight (even though I was technically supposed to be the one to close). Ergo, I went in a little before six and left shortly after ten. It was beautiful.

Since bartender John is leaving the bar, again, tonight may have been his last night. Well, until his swing shift at the other job gives him a couple nights to come in for the odd shift here and there. Tonight he got in after I did and left as soon as Julia came in.

Me: I wish I could have a two hour shift.
Julia: Well, is tonight your last night?
Me: It could be.

Still, a four and half hour shift is nothing to complain about.

Tonight was also interesting because it was my first time meeting/working with the new bartender who's replacing John. He has a real name, but goes by Skunk. I have yet to learn why. I like him. He spent four years working at a bar across the street which recently closed down and he's an on-the-ball bartender who (thanks to the other place) is used to a pretty fast pace and lots of chaos. So, comparatively, our bar is awful laid back. I think he'll work out well. Now if only we could be so lucky with Alex's replacement the week after next.

Me: Hey Skunk, don't listen to anything John says, 'cause he's a redhead and doesn't know what he's talking about. You've gotta listen to Julia instead.
John: Ali's the best waitress ever.

The best part about phasing myself out to leave early? Seeing a certain somebody walk in.
Me: You're boyfriend's here to see you.
Brandi: Oh god, it's that Jeff fucker, isn't it?
Me: Uh huh, and he's all yours.
She got it on the very first try. I was impressed.

Meanwhile, I wandered up front to chat with K.C. who did not have his hair in the customary mohawk, which was quite strange. He told me that the other day he got propositioned to sketch some gal in the nude. Apparently, she's keen on the idea.
Me: You wanna do it?
K.C.: Hell yeah, she's a hottie. It's just that there's a question of morality.
Me: How so?
K.C.: Well, I'd probably have to have her old man in the room when I did it.
Me: Ah.
K.C.: Or I could take pictures, then sketch at home. I've been wanting to sketch a nude female for a while now. I mean, all I need to do if I want to do a nude of a guy is stand in front of a mirror, but women... I can't quite imagine the proportions right.
Me: Then do it. You get to draw a nude girlie, and you'll get a comission.
-Otherwise, if there are any other volunteers, I'd be happy to pass along your contact info. Just let me know.

And then, just that quickly, it was get-the-hell-out time for me.

Extra bonus: this year St. Patrick's is on a Monday. The bar is going to be open (even though we're usually closed) but I informed Marianne that I would be unable to work it since I have class on Mondays. I didn't mention that my class on Mondays is at ten o'clock in the morning, because what she doesn't know won't hurt her.
Marianne: Well, that's too bad for you.

Yeah, I'm totally going to miss the long hellish night filled with people in my way for eight hours, a surplus of obnoxious drunks, and everybody and their dog stiffing me on tips. The past two St. Pat's I've worked I've made less on that day than the average Friday, but with three times the headache and annoyance. With respect to conversations of what money's worth and affordability, St. Pat's day at the bar is the least worth it shift of all. Thank George I was able to wriggle out of it.

So, no St. Pat's, I'm off next week, and I was there less than five hours tonight. I am in such a good mood about the bar right now, it's not even funny.