Throw Back from the 90's

In the midst of my hellacious morning commute today, by complete coincidence- with the help of the shuffle-feature on my iPod... I came across one of my favorite RAP/REGGAE collabos of all time--which matched the emotion that I was feeling ---perfectly.

So, this is for your listening pleasure..

"TOP SHOTTA" DMX & Sean Paul




DAMN.. this came hard.

Its funny how, DMX is probably the only rapper who could ever talk so blantantly about having interaction with another dudes asshole, ("rip your butthole outta place") without someone making a homo reference to him about it. I guess its because, in a time when you have a bunch of rappers talking about shit they really arent about, we BELIEVED X.

Roxie- when you get tired of whatever album you are bumping in the car right now.. Bring it back to '98 and throw that "ITS DARK AND HELL IS HOT" in.. it still bumps just as hard as it did then.




Damn.. the 90's really were a dope time for hip-hop.. werent they? '94-'00 is probably my favorite period of time for hip-hop. Remember-- when BIGGIE was still with us, and Mase, The Lox, DMX were fresh on the mainstream scene.. The early years of Jay and Nas. New York was KILLING SHIT.. Timeless music, I tell ya.

AHH.. I think I've found my soundtrack for the weekend..

FUCKING RAIN!!!!

It's raining like a muhfucka outside today.

I hate rainy days. Atleast Monday thru Friday. If it were up to me. Rainy days would mean, you dont have to trekk into work, especially if you work in the city.

I mean seriously. How fuckin aggravating. Rainy mornings always get off to a bad start. You leave the house, cant forget the umbrella- which is a pain in the ass in itself.. I only got two hands, which I need to hold my coffee and smoke my cigarette (WTF) And then, it seems like--no matter how much money I waste on a fuckin umbrella.. a gust of wind turns the shit inside out.. and now, with my other full-hand I have to wrestle with this fuckin thing.. ARGHH!!!

Meanwhile..

you have a bunch of ASSHOLES that dont know how to walk and carry an umbrella and watch where they are walking all at the same time. Or how about the dickheads, who carry the most obnoxious, biggest fuckin umbrellas known to God.. which takes up the whole fuckin sidewalk and then these idiots walk like they have no where to fuckin go. Which only convinces me.. they probably cant fuckin drive either. So by now, I am experiencing SIDEWALK rage, mentally visioning myself throwing these people out of my way, all the while gritting my teeth and my jaw is bulging. (Maybe I have anger issues.. but whatever).

If I ever spontaneously flip my wig and kill a complete a stranger.. it will most definetly be a rainy day.

and a word of advice to anyone visiting the city on a rainy day.. STAY FAR AWAY from the curb.. cuz the buses and the taxis will come SPEEDING thru, sending a fuckin Tsunami spraying everything on the side of it, you included.

I'm in the comfort of my warm, dry office now.. working on my second cup of coffee as the bottom of my pants slowly dry. The forecast has this rainy sticking around for another day or two.. so I will most likely relive this fabulous experience on my way home. After that, Im staying home.

Fuck the rain.

(hey, atleast its Friday, right? lol)

The Lonely Lady

Sunday nights... kind of like a hit or miss trend at the bar lately. It seems though, even on the slowest of nights when the minutes are lasting hours -- there are always one or two faces I can count on seeing. The trend amongst these faces, are --they all seem sad, empty, lost, even hopeless. To me, they reflect the faces of true socially-impaired alcoholics. One of them being Nancy.

Nancy, is an elderly lady.. Not exactly sure HOW old Nancy is.. but by the her physical appearance.. the smoker's wrinkles, the hunched posture, and the thinned hair-- she appears to be in her early sixties... Dont quote me on that though. How can I describe Nancy well wnough to you, that you can completely appreciate the simplicity and perhaps the underlying complexities of she. (??) Hmm..

Well, EVERY night, sunday through Saturday... around 9:00 pm, Nancy staggers into the bar.. apparently making her last stop of her daily-bar-hopping excursions. Always dressed in some thin, cotton, tapered ankle pants that sag at the butt as if she has rocks in her draws, along with a matching t-shirt, which she apparently gave up on wearing bras years ago. Nancy also, ALWAYS wear one of three different crocheted sweaters, that appear to be older than I am. Nancy walks with a permanent limped-stagger and always looks like she is lost. Its strange. Then when she walks into the bar, the same way she has everynite for countless years.. she hops onto a stool, gives a routinely-dry greeting, and without being asked, is served with a glass of white wine accompanied by a glass of ice water. And then.... she stares. Seriously, she just stares. If NO ONE approaches her for conversation, which they rarely do, Nancy stares blankly at whatever she's fixated her attention on, and gets lost-- SOMEWHERE. Occasionally, you will look and see her jaw slightly dropped as if a sound is trying to escape... but NOTHING. She also seems to suffer from some sort of anxiety problem, as she often rings her hands together, compulsively.. especially in the rare instance, that she is engaged in conversation.

Nancy is an interesting character. She has annoying habits.. like silently pushing her glasses to the edge of the bar to let me know that she wants a refill.. instead of calling out to me. Or refusing to drink her water after the cup is 1/4 of the way empty (i guess it only taste good at the top of the glass). Or leaving her nasty, used, crumpled tissues on the abr for me to pick-up. Then when she is ready to end her night of silent-drinking, she calls the cab, ALWAYS stating her full name and address. Rituallistically, upon the cab arrival, Nancy makes a hurried departure (as if the cab will dissapear and she will be stuck forever here , if she does not reach it with in a matter of seconds)..leaving behind, her also very ritualistic $2.00 tip. (thanks Nancy)

I find myself getting annoyed with Nancy , quite often, despite the fact that I do feel bad about it.. I mean, shes harmless. All she appears to want out of life, is to be able to enjoy glasses upon glasses of wine until it is time to go home... and without being bothered or bothering anyone.. (in all honesty- there should be more customers like that).. but I always wonder about Nancy.. About why, if she doesn't seem to care for any social interaction- does she not just drink her wine in the comfort of her own home. (?) I imagine she is lonely. I imagine that she is sad and lonely. Old, sad and lonely. And then I feel bad for her. Perhaps, I never gave her a fair chance. Perhaps, this old , sometimes annoying, lady has no one. Perhaps, the entire course of her life, entails nothing more than working, and then travelling from bar to bar in an attempt to drown away her sorrows and forget about the empty house that waits. I fear seeing my future reflected in Nancy.

But perhaps she doesnt want anyone though, perhaps she likes her house empty.. I will never truly know these things until I ask.. I suppose.

Maybe on the next Sunday, that is only I and Nancy , sitting alone in this small bar-- I will make an attempt to understand the inner workings of this lady... because behind every worn face, on top of every hunched back, in every set of tired eyes.. there is a story. There is a lifetime of joy, pain, comedy, and darkness. There is a person. And we live in a world, where we are ALL guilty of making biased and false assumptions about others without having witnessed their substance.

So You Think You Can Dance? - "The 5th" Edition

Welcome to my blog. By the title, I'm sure you can guess.. this blog will be dedicated to sharing with you the amusing times, tales, and adventures of , MYSELF, while tending bar.



Some of the shit I see, is PRICELESS.



Bartending can be a lot of fun... You get to meet a lot of different kind of people. some of them are cool, some are assholes, some are just drunks, and some are, well .... WEIRDOS.



You also get to see alot of different things.... SOMETIMES, things that you wouldn't even believe. It seems like that happens to me alot.



Hence the reason I have started this blog..



How many times, have you seen something, and just thought "I SHOULD HAVE GOT THAT ON CAMERA".. well as it has it.. Last night I bore witness to something, so AMAZING, that that exact thought ran through my head... then the lightbulb flashed on "HEY, you DO have a camera.. not too late"..



Its time like these that I thank God for modern technology.



This lady, who disclosed her name as PATRA, was a DANCING QUEEN.... and had NO shame at all... We had a good time watching her.. I thought I'd share the enjoyment with you..



(sidenote: my advanced apologies for the metiochre sound, these phones arent equipped with the proper microphone abilities, but no worries-- I will have a fix to that next time-- bare with me though thru this.. trust-- it will be worth it)





CLIP 1 - "Jus Getting started"..... (soundtrack- Changing Faces "Stroke You Up")

CLIP 2- Dancing like she only had "24 Hours To Live".. (soundtrack- Mase "24 Hours To Live")

Clip 3- "I'm Like Michael Jackson" (soundtrack - you guessed it - good ol' Mike)

At this point, we decided, this lady, would make for a great interview.. equipped with only a camera phone and 114 seconds of remaining record time, it was time to get to know our STAR DANCER a little better....

SHOUT OUT my boy KEY for blessing us with this one-on-one interview.

CLIP 4- "Did you always know you wanted to be a dancer?"

(BUDWEISER should've paid us for that one.. lmao..and why, its always gotta be that one mofo puttin theyselves in the video, right?)

Many thanks to PATRA, for truly loving the art of dancing, being a good sport.. and hell, she's got spin moves for days... in her words "I'm all about the move-ment"

..and there you have it ladies and gentlemen.. the first of many , colorful nights spent behind the bar... there is more to come.. STAY TUNED..

and remember- ALWAYS TIP YOUR BARTENDER.. dammit. Stop being cheap like its a trend.

Additional SHOUT OUT to JusMe and Dolly... it was real.

MUSIC PROVIDED BY: our old-ass jukebox.