My License in Alcohol Therapy...

This job gives me a lot to think about. I have no license in therapy, I don’t know your family, your spouse, partner, significant other or what have you, but somehow, after a couple social lubricant cocktails, one becomes compelled to tell me all. Now may ask, why I don’t get to be the recipient of  your therapist’s bill? 

I have so heard it all. I meant it. The angry, the argumentative, the cheaters, the entitled, the hateful, the joyous, the jealous, the liars, the repressed, resentful, and basically the just plain crazy, you name it, I have so unwillingly heard it. I’d like to think that all people have souls, whether their belief allows them to think the same or not, I remain to think in such a manner. Keeps me sane I suppose. Or insane, you chose. I’m a bartender. Paid to pour people their favorite beverages. Belittled to muddle a mojito, repeatedly resented for not handing out my phone number, angrily assaulted by those that don’t understand the meaning of “No more for you”, hurtfully hounded by the indecently drunk as well as the just plain a-holes who feel going to a bar marks one free of any social politeness. I am the pity jar of the public, the urinal of the working man/woman and the social ridicule of one with a doctrine and a spit bucket for those who feel they are someone, yet they are not.  I am a gathering ground of ages, from cheap beer to expensive martinis, and a wishing well of youngsters attempting college to old has-beens not willing to hang up their hats.

I am honestly amazed sometimes at the truth I bear to witness. Turns out a dirty martini holds the key to your heart, and it also turns out three of them give me the key to your apartment. If I were to try hard enough I may just as well get your social security number and access to all your credit cards, but luckily for you, I am not that evil. People are so unbelievable stupid in situations involving alcohol. In my opinion churches should give out the wine offering at the beginning of all masses, statistics would probably show an increase in offerings. It is however, astonishing how many supposed “Christians” come out to give their bartender all of their “offerings” only to follow it up with a couple bucks in the basket come following morning at church only to solve all with a few blood Mary’s at brunch and call it a day.

Fact is no matter how happy, sad or jealous, whether one loses ones job or gets promoted to another, everyone drinks.  And we are all the same. Funny to think that, all gathering in one place for one reason. No one knows ones name, status, history, preference. Nothing. One may enter as an empty lost soul and choose to express, repress or ignore all.