Beginning the end of last spring semester, it came to my attention a job would be nice to have; be it for money or an activity to occupy my time. So, I sought and ended up employed in one of the oldest drinking establishments within Murfreesboro proper. “The cleanest dive-bar this side of the river.”
Over the last six months, some strange happenings have taken place, and the sad part is, some of them are a bit out of the norm. Even for the bar scenario.
6) A funny conversation overheard amongst newly acquainted patrons (one being an overly dressed, mentally aloof character and the other a divorcee longing for friendship):
Divorcee: “Okay, man, I gotta trick. Pick a number between one and ninety nine and keep it in your head. Don’t tell me what it is.
Aloof: Okay I got it……………….Fourteen.
5) We have a bartender working at the establishment who takes extreme pride in her job, even though its a face-value job. She loves seeing the regulars coming in and out and knows everyone’s names. Well, walking into the building, there’s the bar on the immediate right and a row of booths lining the opposite wall; approximately thirty/thirty five feet between the bar and the farthest corner booth.
The proud bartender hurls a cup coaster from the bar like a frisbee, straight to the back corner booth (over the heads of many) to someone accidentally catching it in their mouth. The entire bar erupted with laughter.
4) One afternoon ( I usually clock in ‘round 5) became the worst slow day ever. One bartender, myself, and maybe four or five regulars were hanging around like gnats.
“Bryce, entertain me.” the bartender says.
I started one of the worst balloon fights inside of the store that this town has ever seen after I came across the balloon stash in the back. The bossman was due around eight or nine and we had the entire storage area in the back of the store, the bar itself, the patio and the patrons lounging on it completely soaked. I’m talkin’ soaked head to toe; me as well.
I was on my last mop stroke when the bossman walked in and he was none the wiser.
“The floors look really good, Bryce. We must’ve been dead for a while.” he said.
3) Since my employment began, a majority of my friends started coming up to harass me and plead me to buy them a beer (the bastards). But one particular night, one of my buddies, remaining anonymous, decided to woo me into buying him a beer by bringing his electric scooter up and riding it at very high speeds through the back door, through the bar and stage area, and out the side door. I stress very high speeds. That won me over and I finally bought him a Pabst, or something.
The weird part is, though, no one there really noticed or minded this Evil Knievel dressed mad man raising kane on a scooter in the middle of the building.
2) This one happened just two nights ago and will be short and brief:
A black man walks into the bar and hangs out for a while. A thick figured white lady had already been there for some time and eventually, the two introduce themselves.
The man leans down and kisses the cleavage the lady has exsposed, very nonchalantly and looks up to her.
“I hope you know I don’t mean any disrespect.”
1) I’m wondering if this last one is ethical to publish.
I’ll do that soon.
