As far as shifts, it was only a three day week.  Skip one because of the holiday breakfast, which was exhausting enough.  A luncheon, a dinner, for my schedule, my coworkers dressed up, more than I, who came in on the D6 bus from the very west of the town, Fogo De Chao, meat on skewers, gaucho style, good for the team, I'll need a nap when I get back, again on the D6, roughly a four hour trip....  And, of course, I'd been busy the night before it.

Three nights of long company through the whole shift at the bar, from 5:31 to 12:31...  Even if it's just two at the bar, three in the corner, four more coming up after dinner, regulars...  It all adds up, to a long swim.

And then, for Jazz Night, the betrayal.  They did the usual, oh, we're not so busy;  Server A. tells me that she'll be floating between two floors, oh and that also, save one seat for her friend from the club, N., is coming, at 8:30, save him one seat at the bar.  Not much investment in the set-up,  I'm covered with grumpiness and sweatiness, when the door opens, minutes after I'd brushed my teeth and tied a tie and found my pen and my little notepad of stapled scrap paper for the night's orders, a couple, who turned out to be Irish, I still had to order dinner for my mom from Canale's, delivery, in Oswego, snow, Mary the helper staying in on such a night...


The end of the week.  Today I am exhausted.  I try twice to get up.  Twice fall back to sleep.  Does anyone appreciate how exhausted I am...  Well, that's the problem of living alone.  No audience.  Just echoes.



Anytime there is any one you know, anyone the house knows, it's a double-edged sword, to say the least.  Good that they are there, of course, but this is extra to an already tweaked barman, stretched in his entertaining, on the spot since the door opened...  Stimulated by sharing the talk of the town...  Politics, entertainment news...  Travel tales... Holiday tales...  Exclamations, family history tales...   People are telling you tales of The Twenty One Club, or about visiting Ground Zero, the memorial, you listen...  You have a cheers with them...  You have to a have a little bit of Pinot on the rocks, for your soothe, your head, your spirit, to share, in these experiences you'll never have yourself.


And not exactly using all of his talents to their fullness...

Tired.  Just rather tired.  Should be able to get up and go to a day job, but somehow, because it is offered in the city, his own services, sweat and blood, there are takers, ring side seats...  Every time.  That's how it is.  Every single time.  Even if it's just two people, and then four coming up for an after dinner drink, while the two at the bar, an older couple, talk of taking care of a difficult aging mother with a cataract procedure tomorrow at noon...

Looking at distracting things, Facebook, Instagram...  looking up old chapters of life...

Remembering the bewilderment of the busiest time of night, cocktail drink making in one hand, four tabs to close out...