"I can't believe what you say, 'cause I see what you do."
11 February 2010 at 4:26 pm

Im sorry I said those things earlier.

Its ok, Im a bartender. Im used to being offended.

He laughsI was supposed to say, I cant be offended. But I am, all the time. This didn't even happen at the bar; it happened at the office, when the married guy declared himself a horrible flirt and thought that gave him permission to do so. I did what I do in those situations: stare blankly, and walk away. I refuse to dignify that behavior with a response.

I am constantly offended at the bar, of course. Once, someone threw $5 at me and told me to take off my shirt. I stood there with my hand on my hip and pointed to the door. I still take offense to the verbal affronts, but I try to plus it.

Standing behind the bar, slinking back and forth like a German Shepard on patrol, I only ever hear snippets of conversation. Sometimes, theyre funny:

Were you there for his dick-in-a-box phase? some guy says to his friends while Im clearing their glasses.

Wasnt everyone? I throw back. It doesn't even make that much sense, and really isn't funny at all, but that's the nice thing about entertaining drunk people: they want to laugh, and will, at anything.

Like the Australian guy, who asked for water in a plea to avoid "[getting] as drunk as I usually do. At some point, he enunciates very clearly, Thank the heavens for girls with low self-esteem.

In my head, I say, On behalf of all those girls, go fuck yourself, but I just used that line on the guys next to them. People laugh when I, all dolled up with patient smiles, tell them to go fuck themselves, and I love it because I get to say what I mean and people dont think Im a bitch; they think Im funny.

Instead, I turn off my sweet smile and glare. I glare, and I walk away, still facing the asshat to maintain the glare while my body continues on to the next drinker.

Later, after he switched back to beer:

Im sorry I said that before. Im really not that bad, he insists.

Youre only as bad as the things that you say, I tell him, which isn't funny, but he laughs anyway. I walk away quickly. That's the nice thing about working around drunk people; there's always someone else that needs tending to.

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About me
Hi. Morgan, 27, of Santa Barbara, CA. I am a hypocritical admirer of rhetoric (when it is my own) and an observer of literary trends. A secret: I don't take anything very seriously, and that includes myself.