I'm Spider Man. Last night at the bar was one of those nights that was not filled with the normal conversation ablut life, love and sex but rather a new topic crept, or rather was carried into the bar by their proud pwner. Two spiders in a zip lock bag. After observing them through the bag it was determined that the larger of the two had succumbed to the trama of capture and being carried to the bar so the owner of the spiders decided to roll its' poor departed body out of the bag. Wrong, it was playing possum. As soon as it hit fresh air and the freedom of the bartop it was off and running. It was some form of Wolf Spider I believe. An empty rocks glass aided in the capture of the renegade spider adn it was returned to the bag for safe keeping. As soon as it was captured again, it went back into its' dead possum mode. The other spider was determined to be a juvenile Daddy Long Long Legs. The spiders, named Burt and Ernie then went back home after their master quaffed a glass of Cabernet. Updates on the two will follow as events warrant.

Happy campers at the bar. You know one of the nice things about having a bar is that you can make a living by making other people happy. This is a very good way to spend your life. I am also very lucky in that I have several very good and competent bartenders that can handle almost any situation. I have seen my youngest bartender jump right in between two adult men that were in the beginning stages of what could have been a nasty situation and inform them that they were not going to make fools of themselves in her bar. It involved a couple that was going through a divorce. The soon to be ex-wife was at the bar with a new 'friend'. The soon to be ex-husband found them and was less than happy. The woman involved though was a very happy camper as she had made her ex a very unhappy camper. My bartender broke up the confrontation before almost anyone else knew there was even a problem. Being a bar owner of, or a bartender at a small bar is like being an entertainer where most of the time you don’t have to bother with make up or a costume. Sometimes you play the role of comedian and sometimes that of a pyschologist. You get to have the privilege of seeing your friends and making new acquaintances while making them happy that they are in your establishment. It is a win – win situation for everyone involved. The bar provides a friendly environment where people can unwind from the day, vent about the politics of the day or the situations in their lives that make them happy or upset. It is group therapy for the masses. The topics of conversation can and do range a great deal.

For example, last Wednesday night one of my bartenders called me and asked me to do a Google search to see if I could determine how many times a day people in the United States engage in phone sex, not just for pay but also between consenting adults. I am still working on this one. I think the answer is somewhere around (n-1) where ‘n’ is the total number of phones in America. We also have lengthy conversations on the best ways to boil bratwurst, what type of sauerkraut is best and which brand of gasoline has the best additives. We cover it all sooner or later. One of the women at the bar last week stated that she had just read the results of a study of current college coeds that stated either 76 or 78 percent of college women today have had at least one bi-sexual experience while at college. There must be a lot of pent up passion in those women’s dormitories. The amazing thing to me was that everyone present took this number in stride or made some little quip about it. I can only imagine that had the report said that 76 percent of all men had engaged in a bi-sexual affair, virtually everyone there would have been repulsed. Why is it that in today’s society women can be bi-sexual with so much more ease than men? I don’t know the answer to this one. Being at the bar is almost never dull, it can be humorous and thought provoking, even if you might not want to think about what provoked you. The bar scene is very much like improvisational theatre and the price of admission is one drink. Fortunately for me, I get to collect the money. The bar is not always fun however.

Occasionally have the tragic story about loss. Just the other night, one of my new bartenders called me while I was away from the bar to tell me that a gentleman came into the bar and told her that one of his parents had passed away that day. She was at a loss as to what she should do. I told her to be compassionate, give him her condolences and to not let him drink much. He stayed for a while and then left. He just needed someone to talk to, that’s all. She handled the situation very well. Even in this small way, she most likely made him feel slightly better in knowing that there was someone willing to listen. I was very proud of her and how she handled the situation. This is the hardest thing a bartender can deal with, the loss of a loved one.

People plan marriages while at the bar and people plan divorces there too. They prepare themselves for the arrival of their first child and how it will change their lives and if not married, plan their next romantic interlude, hopefully without children being the end product. Almost anything in life can take place in a bar and I own a ringside seat. I am one lucky son of a bitch.