This is a true story and consequently the dialogue is real and decidedly not PC.

It is authentic though so if you want to read this bit of history… you are welcome to, just brace yourself…

This is a story meant to illustrate the fog that surrounds me. When I was 15, I decided to apply for a job as a bartender. My main motive was I was starving to death but anyway, I walked into this bar… a skinny, scrawny kid from the desert.

Now I did not know I was skinny and scrawny. I knew I was hungry and I knew I was lying when I told the guy at the bar who had 30 + years in the bar business that I was 23 years old but other than that I thought I was all cool. I just thought I had high odds of being hired because as you may have noticed, I feel good about myself.

If you wonder how I knew how to tend bar… well I didn’t know how to tend bar but I figured, rum and coke, how hard can it be?

So I went in there and talked shit which I can do at a level you’d be hard pressed to even imagine and this guy hired me. Marv, was his name and I started work that night with this big, big, fat Pisces man with googly eyes whose name I cannot remember.

I had just gotten to town from the desert so I’d never seen anyone so fat in my life and I was scared to death of him of course. His thighs were as big as my body and he’d worked in this bar for years, maybe 20 years? He was an institution in the place, which happened to be the most popular college bar in the city.

My first night I stepped behind the bar and I don’t know what to tell you besides I just started tending it. Fat Pisces turned out to be hysterically funny and he took to me right away.

Now this was back when there was a large influx of college students from Iran, every single one of them was driving a Trans Am with a ird on the hood though I have no idea why. The Pisces was opinionated and boy was he was obnoxious.

“I don’t like these fuckin’ camel jockeys, Elsa, do you?” he yelled to me at from his end of the bar to mine.

Well I didn’t know what a camel jockey was being from the desert and all… no TV. “Camel, what?” I yelled back. “What did you say?”

“Jockey!” he yelled, rolling his googly eyes. “Camel, Fucking. Jockey like this place is full of ‘em!” He paused to look up at the Iranian man who’d approached the bar for a pitcher of beer. “What do you want, camel fucking jockey?” the Pisces asked with his googly eyes looking at the man. He was too big to fuck with see? The guy was as big as a house.

“Another pitcher,” the man said with a heavy accent.

“Another pitcher,” the Pisces said to him. “Big fuckin’ surprise!” he said winking a googly eye at me as he grabbed a pitcher and started to pour. “These camel motherfuckers drink like fish,” he said. “Me too, at least I used to! I used to drink but now I stay sober and watch the assholes around here drink. I used to act just like ‘em don’t get me wrong. I don’t really hate ‘em, it’s just that I really hate ‘em. But hey! At least I’m honest! I tell ‘em I hate ‘em and you can just see how it’s ruining business,” he said, indicating the throngs of people in the bar having fun. “Yeah, I’ve done everything I can to get them not to come here but I guess they just love me or something, eh Elsa?”

I stared from my end of the bar. It was like he was talkin’ Pig Latin or something, I really had no idea what he was saying. I’d never been in town, see and now I was tending bar in one but whatever. Here’s my (initial) point.

This whole scene is Neptunian. First people are drunk. I work with a Pisces (Jupiter conjunct in Pisces, I’d be willing to bet) and in the middle of this scene is a 15 year old who everyone seems to think, belongs. Boy that Pisces liked me and I would be at a loss as to tell you why.

I can tell you at the end of the night he gave me a high five (which did not knock me over) and told me he’d never worked with a better bartender in his life. “I’m gonna tell Marv to give you a fuckin’ raise,” he said. I was thrilled.

“Go over there flick the lights on and off.” He must have seen the look of stupidity on my face because he added, “That means get the fuck out.”

I flicked the light switch up and down and few times as the obese Pisces walked to the center of the bar, put his hands on top the bar and yelled at the top of his lungs. “GET OUT!!!!!!!!!! EVERYONE GO HOME! GET ON YOUR FUCKIN’ CAMELS AND GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY BAR!”

Slowly everyone left the bar as Pisces and I split our tips. I tried to copy his nonchalant behavior but the cash looked like a small fortune to me. I was supposed to be experienced but I’d actually never closed a bar in my life so I didn’t know what to do next.

“Get the lights over there,” Pisces ordered, “But don’t go outside until I go with you. I’ll walk you to your car.”

I stared at him because I didn’t have a car and I also had no idea what he was talking about. Were bartenders supposed to have cars? I was a fake one see, so I didn’t know. Plus I had only decided to become a fake one the day before so I didn’t know what was going on…

“People are drunk, some of them are assholes. They may wait out there and try something with you but nobody fucks with me. Just wait for me,” he said. It was a labor for him to walk, see. I stood by the back door politely.

“I don’t have a car,” I said.

“No car?”

I shook my head.

“Do you live far?”

“Mile and a half,” I said. I named the intersection so glad I had one to name because a month earlier there would have been no such luck.

“No problem, I’ll drive you. Come on, Elsa, we had a good night. Kicked ass in tips, that’s the most tips I’ve made in awhile. I think the assholes like you, I know I do. You’re a funny chick. I’ll tell Marv to give you a raise and he’ll do it. We’re friends, see. I’ve worked for him for 20 years. He’s from Jersey so he’s a thief,” he said with a snort, “Yeah, everyone from Jersey is a fuckin’ thief but don’t worry. He ain’t gonna steal from you because I’ll tell him not to or I’ll kick his ass.”

“Hmm. Well, thank you. Thank you very much.”

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