The New Bartender

Yes you’re right, I do hang out in bars most of the day. I’m a writer and that’s what we writers do. Ok, I made up the part about being a writer, but the other part is true. Spending time in bars, it should come as no surprise that I fall in love with a female bartender, or two. Hell, who I’m I kidding, it’s all of them. For the most part, I fall for every lady that sez hi to me and doesn’t run out of the room screaming. I know a bartenders job is to be friendly and keep my drink refreshed, but sometimes I can’t help but feeling ‘special’. Am I really ‘special’ or just Mr. bourbon & ginger? The key is to know the difference.

Every so often, I will think there is a chance for me to know a young lady in the…, well…, you know…, the way a woman wants a man to feel about her. Most guys go for what’s on the surface and don’t take the time that is necessary to become friends. Physical attraction is a good thing and I’m 100% for it, but it doesn’t last like inner beauty. One thing that has helped bring me back to reality regarding attractive bartenders, are comments from my friends. They will say things such as: “Don, you are old enough to be her dad!”, or ” Yeah right!, you and every other guy that comes into this joint”. OK!…, fine…, I get it. But I, like everyone else, tend to think of myself as different and not one of ‘those guys’ ( of course I am, but!, I’m not ). Now the question is; “When does feeling ‘special’, turn into the ‘real thing’?” Hey!…, don’t ask me, I asked you first.

The last lady I met in a bar that got my attention, was quite…, I mean…, I wish I hadn’t had to leave for work just as our conversation was getting started. In the short time we had together, I knew I wanted to see her again. As fate would have it, she lives in Utah and was catching a flight out in three hours. I called her while she was at the airport and got her basic information. In the last few weeks, the e-mails have been amazing, ‘really’ amazing. I can’t help but think; ” Does she actually live in Utah, or did she just fly there after meeting me so we could be long distance Facebook friends?” ( I’m going to start working on my confidence level ). Things are going to be different in my world. I intend to re-invent myself.

Yesterday was a great day for me. I got an e-mail from my college roommate. His then girlfriend Joan, now x-wife, and her younger sister, visited us at the dorm one weekend and I dated high school sophomore, Linda. Joan and my first love Linda, were recently traveling through my adopted home town of Solana Beach, California, and they looked me up on the internet. They found my blog and have been reading my stories ( God bless technology ). One story,”My First Motorcycle”, deals with going to school at Cal Poly and returning to Solana Beach years later after I got out of the service. I’m not sure how it happened, but they figured out it had to be me and e-mailed Greg my roommate. I haven’t actually corresponded with Linda yet, but I’m hoping she contacts me. I would like to explain, that the last time I didn’t show up or call, I was on my way to Vietnam and a ‘little’ messed up. I don’t have any expectations of what may happen next, but I already feel great about the whole thing. Everything from this point on will be a bonus. Maybe we will make a movie about meeting again after 46 years. ( Oops!, guess that’s already been done Sally ). These are just a couple of the many lost opportunities I’ve had over the years, which reminds me of the real reason for writing this little story, and her name is Tiffany.

Hanging out with the new, day bartender Tiffany, is by far the best way a man can spend his day. She is usually not that busy, has time to chat and it doesn’t hurt that there is a ‘Happy Hour’ with two buck drinks ( I get thirsty typing all morning ). Before she was hired, there was a period of a couple of weeks where the manager was filling in behind the bar, while he interviewed to replace Liz, the last day bartender that had moved on ( yes, I fell for her too ). I was there to see most of the perspective applicants, and would give Dave a recommendation every so often on who I thought qualified. You know, basically the really pretty ones with nice ‘features’ ( Hey, I’m a guy ). One day Leslie strolled in, sat down next to me at the bar and ordered a beer. We got to chatting and it finally came out that she was applying. She had the good looks of a woman that doesn’t need a lot of make-up and by talking to her, I knew she could handle herself in a bar full of ‘tanked’ up old farts like myself. I was sold! Leslie was the one and I let Dave know that she had my blessing and should hire her. Well, despite of all my efforts, and the fact that I am not the manager, he decided to take his time. There was eventually someone ‘extra’ special that applied, and of course it was Tiffany.

I must say that I was apprehensive about his choice as Tiffany had worked a couple of other local bars that I don’t go into any longer ( for various reasons ). Without even meeting her, I got the impression that she was an old ‘veteran’ of the bar business, and would have a tough attitude towards the likes of me and my pals. I envisioned someone who was in their 40’s or 50’s, and finishing up a twenty year career of slinging booze. Man was I wrong, way wrong.

Some women have a very flashy look. They make construction workers whistle and every guy they pass will turn around for a second peek. The first day Tiffany arrived, my first thought was…, well…, she’s not a curly-haired blond like Leslie with a low-cut top. I don’t remember exactly what she was wearing, but it was probably jeans and a comfortable top, with a sweater over it that could be removed as the day heated up. Her hair was up in a bun, which is the norm for someone in the food handling business. I waited a couple of days for her to get the routine down, before I bombarded her with my ‘old guy’ chit-chat. I believe it was on her third day, that I walked in at my usual time, and looked up to see her with her hair down. My first reaction was to thank Dave the manager, and advise him to never listen to me regarding new employee choices. Tiffany is simply a gorgeous woman.

Tiffany and her boyfriend Jeremy

Back in the eighties I was the doorman and ID checker for a popular club. I only lasted one night because I was letting in all the eighteen year olds and asking for proof of age from women in their thirties. Not knowing her actual age, Tiffany is someone whom I would ask to see ID, if she came into my bar. Real beauty is timeless and is just as much about a persons insides, as it is about their physical appearance. In Tiffany’s case, she has both. In the few short weeks since she started, I can hardly wait for Wednesday to come around and see her again. I know I’m being silly and this isn’t the first time this has happened, as I have already mentioned…, but…, I just can’t help it. She is very ‘special’ and makes me feel the same. Thank you for that feeling Tiffany, thank you very much.

( post script )To make sure that I do not cross over into ‘creepy customer’ land, I am writing this story and intend to give it to Tiffany, thus making sure everything is clear. I should ask her if her mother is single. If she is anything like the daughter, I’m in big trouble.

( one month later )

There is one more thing I want to add about Tiffany. Since I wrote this story, I have come to realize that everybody either loves her, or is ‘in love’ with her ( there is a difference ). I am just one of many. I still go to sleep every night thinking about her, and wake up every morning with the same feeling. I would stop if I could, but so far I can’t. Please don’t tell her, because she will take it the wrong way, and I would never want that.

“We crucify ourselves between two thieves: regret for yesterday and fear of tomorrow.”
“Every exit is an entry to somewhere else.” Tiffany’s favorite quotes

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