A Priest and a Rabbi walk into a bar...

...If only. That would certainly make my day a little more interesting. I have chosen a dubious profession as someone who dislikes: negative people; drunk people; and needy people. As a bartender, I spend my days and nights listening to the same sad people, talk about their same sad problems, none of which they are willing to take any responsibility for.

"Boo-hoo, I'm going to lose my house if I can't come up with the money for the back payments I owe."

Maybe if you didn't spend $50+ a day at the bar, you'd be able to pay your mortgage?

"Boo-hoo, I got another DUI--I think the cops are 'entrapping' me."

Maybe if you walked the 6 blocks home at night after you drank 6 beers, the cops wouldn't be able to 'entrap' you?

My life sometimes feels like the movie 'Groundhog Day'... I know exactly who I'm going to see and what they are going to say before they even open their mouths. I have 2 rules at my bar:

1.) Jeopardy comes on at 6:30, so if you need something you had better order it before then or wait for a commercial break.

2.) Don't complain to me about your woes unless you really want to hear what I have to say.

I know a few of my regulars are simply lonely people who don't want to go home to a big empty house at the end of the day. They come to me for liquor, yes, but also for company, solace and conversation. While I understand this, I am often at a loss to provide it since I refuse to shoulder their burdens along with my own by asking any probing questions and I ran out of things to talk to them about months ago.

Obviously, there are exceptions. One dude, a hard-ridden, pot-head biker with a heart of gold, who defends my honor against the other buffoons, tips well and brings me flowers and banana splits when I have to work doubles, always makes me smile. And I love my Sunday afternoons with another, older gent who I always have interesting and stimulating conversations with about traveling, life etc. Then there's the gal who comes in a couple times a week, who reminds me so much of my mom with her sassiness, and who laughs with me about all the shenanigans occurring around us. They are the people who get me through my week. It's the ones I refer to as the "lifers", who really get me down. I simply cannot fathom having nothing better to do with my life than sit at the same bar, day after day, hour after hour, drinking. Isn't there a movie you want to go see? A book you've been itching to read? Perhaps some sport you'd like to go watch live? It's sad, and although they are perfectly nice people, I find myself struggling to like them. One guy imparticular, has missed exactly 1 day in the 10 months since I've been tending bar... I was so worried, I almost called his house to make sure he was okay. That is a bizarre relationship to have with someone and though he is a hot mess, I've sort of accepted him for what he is and I think he is genuinely good, albeit completely lost.

I keep hoping, since I spend so much of my time there, that one of these days an attractive, single fella will breeze in and blow me away. There have been a few that showed potential, but they're usually just passing through on vacation or business and/or they're married and/or they start off charming then turn into a complete douche after 3 drinks. One dude, who came in every day for a month last winter, was presumably single and certainly not hard to look at, but dumb as a box of rocks. I was appreciative of the temporary eye candy, but ultimately, if you can't turn me on mentally, you might as well just do your jager shot and be on your way... it will free up your stool for someone new to give me hope.