New York City Bartenders & Patrons

I would first off like to say thanks to everyone who welcomed me, and thanks to Kevin for inviting me! I am glad to be here.

As Kevin said; I have been bartending in NYC for about 8 years. I've worked in all types of joints, from the strip club ($$) to the trendy lounge (yawn) to the dive bar(yeehaw!) I can't say I have a favorite place, but my favorite thing about bartending is absolutely the people I meet and the conversations I have.

A particular conversation that will forever stick out in my mind happened about a year ago. A man sat down at bar and ordered a beer. He was an average man. Average height, average looks, average clothes.

When he was done with his beer, he ordered another, then another, then a shot then another one of those. Now this wouldn't be interesting at all except, he didn't look or act the slightest bit drunk! I was beginning to feel a bit challenged! Can I not give an average man a buzz? The whole purpose of my job is to get men drunk! Am I failing? Do I need to find another profession? Why can't I do it?? In under an hour and after 6 beers and 10 shots, I would have easily trusted this man to deliver my baby.

So, I asked! "Are you a superhero? Why do you seem so sober after so much to drink?!"

Then he dropped the bomb. He is immune. Holy shit! Evil of all evils! I was shocked. He cannot process the alcohol correctly, and not only does he not feel the effects at all, it makes him completely sick. The last time he had just ONE drink, his hangover was so bad he was hospitalized for dehydration. This binge could kill him. He decided it was worth it.

As I was contemplating 'roofing' him, on the hopes he might get a buzz, I was thinking about it. To never drink without fear of sickness or death? Could you give it up? Would you die for a fun night in a bar? Of course not.... Right?

To never drink! No stomach churning regret of the drunken hookup! No loosing your wallet/cell/money! No going to work late and hungover! No trying to figure out how you will get home. I tried desperately to explain all the cons and ramifications of being wasted. It's really not worth it. He didn't care.

He will never enjoy the combination of beer+wings+football. He will never understand what a glass of Cabernet does to a plate of linguine. Sangria on a hot day. The fun of that drunken hookup.

When he told me the next drink might kill him, I obviously stopped serving him. I actually tried funneling Gatorade down his throat, but he just left. I'm sure he went to another bar. The poor guy was a man on a mission.

I hope that man is still out there somewhere. Alive, and hopefully... completely fucking trashed.

Cheers.