There are, in fact, times when I really see, why I love bartending, what is the point of it. It often happens with perfect strangers coming in, and the native human generosity that goes out to people passing by who you may well never see again. No, it's not for the 'bullshit factor' of the ease of being friendly. No, I think it has much more to do with the the spiritual experience, kind of like church, of going somewhere far away and finding, oddly enough, someone who is a brother, someone who 'gets' your own experience.

A newlywed couple, residents of Stockholm, come by. Over a food, people connect. The boss is kind enough to let me get them a digestif.

What a contrast of that decency of friendship to, say, the night before, one of those 'birthday' gatherings that was... well, disrespectful of the musicians of jazz night, obviously a few enjoyers of cocaine in the crowd. Why, why do you do it us, a perfectly nice restaurant, just going about its business, trying to do the right thing, and out of the blue, this stupid selfishness of
'bar people.' cut them off, in the beginning. tell them to go somewhere else. Proof that some people, even if they look okay, don't do a good job at all with the social contract. I've seen drunks do much better, to tell you the truth.

One of these days, I'll name names.

When good people come in, there is a literary satisfaction, the satisfaction of the historian, the sense that individual humans are repository of sunlight.