Bartending on sunday brunches brings an interested crowd. I see absolutely nothing wrong with starting to drink at noon while watching sports and getting your omelette on. But keep in mind, if you are by yourself…
While the bartender does pour your alcohol, smile, and throw a joke around here and there… they are NOT, i repeat, NOT your BFF to the dizeath. Yesterday I had a major cause of TMI with a 50 year old guy sitting behind the taps with a bit of a shaking problem. The conversation went exactly as follows:
Dude: I’ll take a Coors Lite.
Me: Would you like to see a menu too?
Dude: Nah, just popping in for a cold one real quick.
Me: (hand him his beer) Has it warmed up out there? It was kind of chilly when I came in this morning.
Dude: It’s allright. Nothing like Miami though. I just moved back to New York 3 weeks ago. I was living in Miami with my soon to be ex wife. I work at the French Culinary Institute. My names David.
Me: Well, welcome back! I’m Mam…
Dude: Yeah moved back after My soon to be exwife had our second child and told me it wasnt mine. Got all the DNA tests done and sure enough, the kid is not mine. (takes last swill of beer) I like New York. Its real, ya know. Miami is as fast and phony as it’s women. You know, youre nice to take to. Illl take another Coors Lite and stay and eat with you.
(End Scene).
** He then proceeded to order blue crabs which you eat with a mallet and teensy, tiny fork (with the shaking this took about an hour, forty five. And then Ahi Tuna. And decided to have 5 beers and watch the Cavs game. I know David real well now.
