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The bartender nods and brings over the menu.
“Was hoping you were going to bring something in tonight. I didn’t have lunch today.” he says as he hands it to her.
“You want egg rolls? He’s buying.”
“You bet. Thanks mate. Your next round is on the house. Melanie can be a real life saver in here.”
He moves off to grab another round for another customer. Spend much time actually sitting at bars instead of just sitting in them and you notice the difference between a career bartender and a between jobs bartender almost instantly. It doesn’t matter if it is a bar where the cheapest drink is $20 or a toilet bowl like this place. There is an efficiency in their movements and an ability to know which customer wants what before they order.
Mike was flagged by only one guy, but he went to the fridge and pulled out seven cans of beer, nearly evenly distributed across both brands they carry here. Those he set up in front of the people surrounding Henry, on his way over to the yard arm to pull another plastic cup for the guy who made the initial flag. While it was pouring, Mike set up three plastic shot glasses and poured shots of Jagermeister. The draft he sold to the original flagger and the shots he placed in front of three guys who cheered his timing. He came back over to make change and update tabs, removing all doubt about his career.
“Melanie, stop at City Liquors and pick up a bottle of Chardonnay for this guy on your way to fetch Chinese.” He handed her two 20s and went back to serving drinks.
She said “Okay” as he drifted off, then looked at me. “You’ve never been here before, so how does he know you and why is he letting you drink wine?”
“He’s never met me before, and isn’t likely to ever see me again. That was just a thank you for supper.”
“You must have asked for it when you first came in.”
“I asked one of the ladies for a Chardonnay when I came in. She didn’t know what it was. I told her it was wine and she said they didn’t have any of that and I told her to bring me whatever was on tap. I never saw her speak to your friend Mike. You visit with Mike, but you don’t actually see or know him do you?”
That brought a quizical look to her face.
“He’s a professional bartender, even if he never went to school for it” I continued after a moment. “He reads a customer before they find a seat and knows what they want. He knows the right time to show up with drinks to stop a fight and the right time to show up with drinks to start a fight. Most bar owners only value the first skill, but in a toilet like this the second is far more valuable.”
“Why is that?”
“You need to cancel out the largest threats early on before a melee ends up taking the place out for days.”
“And just how do you think he does that?”
“Dropping off a drink to a guy’s wife or girlfriend and refusing to say who it came from is usually a good way to get most of the Ogres spoiling for a fight. In a dive like this they know they cannot go grabbing and pounding on the bartender without ending up in a dumpster without any witnesses so they start challenging small guys. The girlfriend or wife gets vocal about it and another Ogre decides to step in and shut him up. Whenever there isn’t a cancelling Ogre, I imagine he gets you to go sit by the current Ogre threat until some stocky guys who like you show up to trim his wind.”
Her laugh was enough to confirm both had happened more than once in this place. It also sounded like she enjoyed it. “So, what are you having? I need to call it in and get going.”
“Beef and PeaPod is good, Beef and Broccoli would be a real gasser…hmmm…they have Mongolian Chicken…I’ll take the Mongolian Chicken and some fried rice. Be sure to order something to take to your kids.”
continued…
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