There are some drawbacks to bartending with geriatrics. Today I attempted to kill one of my regulars. It is always a possibility. You serve a drink and they go down….. One minute you’re winding them up and the next minute you’re writing about their demise in the log. This one I didn’t expect, and no I didn’t kill him. And he wasn’t on my danger list. His wife (who is a serious gambler with mild dementia. Getting old is horrible. One minute everyone wants to fuck you and the next you are a mummified nightmare with lipstick on your teeth. Shudder. Please take me out when this happens. Please?) her maybe. Except she doesn’t actually drink. She just talks to herself and pounds her husbands pension into a poker machine. Those things are truly evil BTW. The average gambler is a woman between the ages 45 and 65. Its a dopamine rush just like video games only much more costly.
Its hard because these old guys think they can still drink like their virulent 30 year old selves. They get pissed off when you cut them off even though most of them have had enough medical procedures to staff an ER three times over. You give them one stupid bourbon and the fist full of meds they took that morning kicks in and the next thing you know they are on their backs like turtles waving arms and legs and phantom boners at you like helpless babies. You laugh at that but I have actually had this phenomena described to me in disturbing detail more than once.
“Awe man if I were twenty years younger (try 30 sweetheart) you have no idea what I would do to you”
Yes I do and please do not use the word spanking again.
I left my brain bleach at home.
Not all of them are repugnant. Sometimes its cute when they wave those things around over there. I like to think I am providing a harmless pulse test. My Awesome L’il Boss says
“Gross! They think of me as a daughter!”
Yeah. Me not so much……