Remembrances of things Pabst

So Tony the bartender at Marco Polo is off on vacation the next two weeks. Which sucks for me because then my drinking schedule is all fucked up.

We had a phenomenally busy day yesterday so I didn't feel like cooking. Plus one of our old time clients came in after not being in the store for a year. She did a big spend so after we closed we all went out for cocktails. That's when the trouble started.

We thought our pal Jay was going to be the bartender but he was running a party upstairs so they had this bitch that used to work next door in Enoteca. She looks just like Velma from Scooby Doo and has a personality to match Scooby's balls. We order our drinks and she measures them out using a shot glass measure instead of free hand. I mean seriously? My caipirinha was way too weak. I had to tell her to give me a double shot on the next one. Or four measures of her little fucking tool. Then it was half way decent. We ate at the bar but the service was pretty shitty. She couldn't keep up with the crowd at all. The funny thing was that there wasn't a crowd! Just one other couple sitting at the bar and she couldn't handle it. The worse was yet to come.

You see the restaurant officially closes at midnight. I mean of course they stay open later if there are people eating there. We had finished our food and a called for a round. Five minutes after serving the last round she brings me the check. Why? Because she wanted to close out and go home. You don't do that. It was only 11pm and what if I wanted another drink? What the fuck? You want to go home so you want to rush me. Fuck you bitch. I paid my tab and we finished our drinks but I don't think I will be going back until Tony is back in town. We have plenty of other places to go where they are more than happy to have us drinking and spending money. What a numbskull.