the bullshit artist

Most bartenders hope for special occasions or parties because they know that’s how they will make money. I hope for meetings and funerals because that’s what really draws the crowd to the bar at the AC. Once a month, the board of the club has a meeting that usually lasts for about 2-3 hours. While they’re meeting, people come to sit at the bar and wait for them to be done so they can give them their opinions. Last night was the monthly board meeting and it was filled with the usual cast of characters.


One particular guy, Tom, came in while the meeting was taking place. I had met Tom before and as soon as I saw him walk in I knew I was in for a long night. The first time I had met Tom I had found out he had 6 degrees from 6 different schools, was a huge art dealer and made tons of money, and that he was one of the biggest bullshit artists I’ve ever met. I found this out within the first 3 minutes of meeting him. My uncle had coached him in little league and he knew pretty much everyone on my dad’s side of the family so I like to give him the benefit of the doubt and think that he just felt comfortable telling me whatever was on his mind.

One of the things that I haven’t figured out how to manage yet as a bartender is how to handle uncomfortable situations, especially with people like Tom. Tom is married with a few kids but doesn’t hesitate to hit on anything that moves. For example, since it was just me and him in the bar while the meeting was going on, whenever there was a lull in the conversation he would say things like “Tell me…how hard is it being beautiful?” or he would just randomly wink at me. What I wanted to respond was “Get the fuck out of here” but in reality I just laughed awkwardly. Seriously dude?

Thankfully, we weren’t by ourselves for long and the board trickled downstairs and into the bar. Remember the guitar-playing life-lover from a couple of weeks ago? He was laid off this week so the whole night he was “just trying to survive”. Him being laid off (as a physical therapist) lead into a 5 person tirade on how Yonkers policemen are overpaid. I agree, maybe some of them are. They were talking about one police officer in particular who will stand to make $365,000 next year alone. Coming from Tom’s mouth I don’t know how true that is but judging from what I’ve heard in the past I believe it. This is totally absurd but they aren’t all making that much and there are some that actually bust their asses. Anyway, this went on for an hour and in that hour I realized that even though this is a place where people have grown up together and most are on the same level financially, there is still a bar in between me and them and they do not want to hear my opinion in the slightest. I made a silent vow last night to keep my mouth shut when certain people are in attendance. Around 10:30 everyone started to head out. The life lover left with words of advice to “keep surviving” and a $10 tip (I’m sure he’ll survive just fine) and Tom had to go pick up his priest friend coming back from the Yankee game.

The club itself is basically a huge house they converted into this club house. It’s been around since 1891 and is rumored to be haunted. It’s scary as hell and on top of that when the warm weather came about my boss warned me that from time to time critters get inside so just be prepared. And I’m not talking about tiny mice critters. I’m talking about raccoons and skunks. Sweet. So anyway, I lock myself in when I’m closing just to be safe from all the animals, literally and figuratively speaking.

About 10 minutes later, after locking the windows and straightening up I heard this ridiculous banging on the front door. I thought maybe someone left something and came back to get it. Oh no, it was Tom. He was back and he brought his friend (actually a lawyer). So there we sat for another two hours, Tom drinking ginger ale and Friend drinking Guinness. In two hours I learned more about art history than I did in one semester of it in college, I learned that North Broadway used to be called “Millionaire Mile” (anyone from Yonkers is thinking “yea right”) and I was invited to a private event at the Met. I’d like to think that some of the things he was telling me were true but the entire time Friend was sitting there rolling his eyes and shaking his head. So I’m guessing I’m not the only one who’s got Tom figured out.

Any night I leave there that it is semi-busy I’m so happy that I have that little job. I think that I might learn more about people working there one night a week than I have in my entire life so far. It’s amazing what people will tell you after a few drinks…

Happy Friday!