When Are You Coming Home?

Or from our point of view, when are you leaving? Some of our customers stop in for a quick one at 4 o'clock and forget that they were just stopping by for a quick toddy before dinner. Seven pm, eight pm, nine pm and they are still here. All of their other obligations in life seem to become nonexistent when they cross the portals of our bar. It's like life inside the bar takes on a form of suspended animation. "Honey, I am stopping by for just a minute, I will be home in twenty minutes", one hour later it is, "Honey, I am just walking out the door, be home in a couple of minutes." Then they decide they have time for one more quick one before they leave and so it goes. This will be accompanied by the oft used phrase, "I am going to be in so much trouble when I get home, but, hell Screw It. Give me one more quick one." I know only too well because in an earlier part of my life prior to owning restaurants and bars, I did the same thing to my family. I used to run down to the bar after work only to return at nine or ten or eleven or later. Mea Culpa. I was a real asshole to my family during those years. Maybe that's why I am so sensitive to it now and I notice it so much.

The other type of person does not have a family to go home to so they have no obligations to pull them away from the bar. These people are usually quite interesting and are great to have around the bar. They are the color, flavoring and seasoning that give a bar it's unique character. Then of course there are the characters that just show up that you want to have leave five minutes before they arrive. They are the inevitable panhandlers and bums that are always trying to hit your customers up for money or cigarettes or whatever. "Get the hell out and don't come back", my deminutive, sweet, but stern bartender will tell them. She doesn't take shit from anyone and can read through their bullshit in a heartbeat. Then there is the class of customers that just don't get the idea that we will be happy to continue in business without their financial support. The rude, obnoxious, or lousy tippers that expect the bartenders to practically give them a shoeshine with every drink and the fact that they, the bartenders, got to bathe in their magnificence for a time should be payment enough. One last word to the young hopelessly romantic horny young men that come into bars everywhere. No, the bartender does not want to date you. She most likely has a boyfriend at home. While you are at the bar looking for companionship, she is there to work. If they want to date you, they will let you know, but don't hold your breath.