Good Guys Finish Last
Gainesville has a 2am closing time, and they're serious about it. Anyone found in a bar after closing time, who is not an employee, can be hit with a hefty little fine, as will the employees of the establishment. Efforts are being made to change the law to allow bars stay open until 3am, but stop serving at 2. The theory is that all the drunks will not all be forced out onto the streets, like so much effluvia, and will, instead, have time to sober up a little before heading home. I've mixed feelings about it. Part of me dreads it, as that means an extra hour of work, one which I will most assuredly not be compensated for. Another part knows that it would help some of these folks regain some of their senses, and I wouldn't worry so much about them, nor spend so much time and effort, not to mention money, ensuring that they arrive home safely (I've paid for many a taxi out of the tip jar). But would an hour really be enough?
Last Friday I had a good example of how an hour would have helped, but wouldn't have been enough. One of our regulars was in, and was completely blotto. I won't serve people when they are getting to this point, offering them soda or water instead, but someone was buying her drinks. I think a couple of less than well-intentioned fellows were plying her with the muddifying fluids, trying to achieve some pre-determined results. At least, that's something along the lines of what I was able to get out of her. (And not in those words, mind you, but I'll keep it a family show, for now). She is a fairly tiny girl, so it probably didn't take much to get her this way. They were obviously unsuccessful in their nefarious plot, as she was now alone. She'd become very "clingy" to me, and didn't want me to leave her (as I had to go do my clean up duties). She wouldn't hear about me calling her a taxi. She was very emotionally distraught. An extra hour would not have gotten her sober enough to drive home, but it would have unclouded her mind enough to not be so, well, nutcakey.
We figured the only way to get her out of the bar, without her trying to drive (she couldn't even walk without support) would be for me to take her home. Luckily, my truck was parked nearby, as I ended up having to carry her. I managed to get her License from her so I knew where she lived, and drove her home. It was a short drive, but all the while she muttered, incoherantly, how much respect she had for me, and how sorry she was.
I got her home and, with some (major) assistance from me she managed to unlock her door. I supported/carried her to her room and got her into her bed (fully dressed - remember the title of this blog). She tried, several times, to go for the lip lock, but I turned my head and offered her my cheek. She wanted me to stay the night with her. She really is a very attractive girl, but my morals don't stack up that way and my conscience would have never forgiven me). I actually didn't want to leave her, as thoughts of Jimi Hendrix ran through my mind (not pretty), but knew that I couldn't stay and watch over her all night. Luckily, her roommate woke up then and took over the watch duties. As I tried to leave, she begged me stay with her. Now, in the 30's and 40's this might have been a great scene, shot in grainy black and white, and probably at an airport. I'd say something pithy, like, "We'll always have Bali Bali" (sorry, Paris was taken...). But in the here and now, it was very ackward, and I could only mutter, "You know I can't do that sweetie. Try to get some sleep." She closed her eyes and was out cold in seconds.
I turned to leave and her roommate looked at me and said, "Thanks. You're really a nice guy." Yep. The kiss of death, but true.
Of course, when I returned to the bar, to start my close down chores, an hour late, I was the target for that night's razzing. At first it was the elbow nudge, wink wink kind of teasing. When I told them that they knew perfectly well that nothing happened, the jokes escalated about me losing my "man card". That's okay. I know that none of them would have done anything either. Okay, 90% of them.....
So, let's sum up: A couple of scumbags got her wasted, trying to take advantage of her. I got her home safely, and, despite her efforts, without "incident". And I take derision for it.... Sigh. We really do finish last.....
Last Friday I had a good example of how an hour would have helped, but wouldn't have been enough. One of our regulars was in, and was completely blotto. I won't serve people when they are getting to this point, offering them soda or water instead, but someone was buying her drinks. I think a couple of less than well-intentioned fellows were plying her with the muddifying fluids, trying to achieve some pre-determined results. At least, that's something along the lines of what I was able to get out of her. (And not in those words, mind you, but I'll keep it a family show, for now). She is a fairly tiny girl, so it probably didn't take much to get her this way. They were obviously unsuccessful in their nefarious plot, as she was now alone. She'd become very "clingy" to me, and didn't want me to leave her (as I had to go do my clean up duties). She wouldn't hear about me calling her a taxi. She was very emotionally distraught. An extra hour would not have gotten her sober enough to drive home, but it would have unclouded her mind enough to not be so, well, nutcakey.
We figured the only way to get her out of the bar, without her trying to drive (she couldn't even walk without support) would be for me to take her home. Luckily, my truck was parked nearby, as I ended up having to carry her. I managed to get her License from her so I knew where she lived, and drove her home. It was a short drive, but all the while she muttered, incoherantly, how much respect she had for me, and how sorry she was.
I got her home and, with some (major) assistance from me she managed to unlock her door. I supported/carried her to her room and got her into her bed (fully dressed - remember the title of this blog). She tried, several times, to go for the lip lock, but I turned my head and offered her my cheek. She wanted me to stay the night with her. She really is a very attractive girl, but my morals don't stack up that way and my conscience would have never forgiven me). I actually didn't want to leave her, as thoughts of Jimi Hendrix ran through my mind (not pretty), but knew that I couldn't stay and watch over her all night. Luckily, her roommate woke up then and took over the watch duties. As I tried to leave, she begged me stay with her. Now, in the 30's and 40's this might have been a great scene, shot in grainy black and white, and probably at an airport. I'd say something pithy, like, "We'll always have Bali Bali" (sorry, Paris was taken...). But in the here and now, it was very ackward, and I could only mutter, "You know I can't do that sweetie. Try to get some sleep." She closed her eyes and was out cold in seconds.
I turned to leave and her roommate looked at me and said, "Thanks. You're really a nice guy." Yep. The kiss of death, but true.
Of course, when I returned to the bar, to start my close down chores, an hour late, I was the target for that night's razzing. At first it was the elbow nudge, wink wink kind of teasing. When I told them that they knew perfectly well that nothing happened, the jokes escalated about me losing my "man card". That's okay. I know that none of them would have done anything either. Okay, 90% of them.....
So, let's sum up: A couple of scumbags got her wasted, trying to take advantage of her. I got her home safely, and, despite her efforts, without "incident". And I take derision for it.... Sigh. We really do finish last.....
posted by Turtle at 9:08 AM
3 Comments:
You're a good man, Charlie Brown, and proof that it takes more than a white belt and a smack across the face to make a true knnnnnnnnnnnnigit. Who knows, maybe someday she'll come back in, sober, and y'all can get to know each other outside of the etyl-ether. Stranger things have happened. ;-)
Y'all's bars don't already have last call 1 hour before closing? Granted, it's been a few years since I was anything close to a regular in a bar, but I recall at least the one I frequented (in Tallahassee, btw) doing just that...no alcohol past 1am. Curious. And no, it didn't always help that much lol
Last call goes out at 1:30. We start the hollerin' at 1:45. I've found that making them laugh gets them moving. ("If she hasn't said yes by now, she's not going to! Head for the door!")It usually works fairly well.
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