Laid Out

The other night I was loading my gear into my car, when I heard someone yell "Get The Fuck Out!" Its after 2am, and across the street, I see the bartender at the Dive bar, throw a guy through the door, and on his ass. I chuckle then get ready to leave, but the guy starts to bother these Thugs hanging out in front of the bar. One of The guys Socks him in his jaw, and he hits the floor. He is motionless for like 3 minutes, and everyone starts to get worried. Out of the random blue, some youngster runs out from a nearby car, and steals the guys wallet. One of the girls that was there said "Hey we don't steal! Give it back" Then she helped the guy get up. I guess there is still good in the world. Me on the other hand, am not a Hero. I drove the Fuck Home.

Hood Cats and Hills Kids

I thought it would be interesting to write about tonight, while I'm in the middle of this gig with my other DJ. There is no Wifi in here, so I gotta post this later, But this is all happening right now, as I Type.

Its Midnight at my regular Friday spot in late March 2009, and its peak hours. It is Packed in here with some hood ass cats. There are 2 girls at the DJ Booth right now, one has all Gold Front Teeth, and the other girl has a Rooster's haircut. They are bothering my boy who is rotating with me. We are doing a tag team set of all Deep soulful House, and Some other Chump keeps screaming behind the DJ Booth "All this Techno Shit Is giving me a Headache" I'm thinking to myself..."Why are you still here? Its not even Techno!" At this very moment my boy is playing T-pain's "Bartender", the Mr V remix. I guess the other local spot that is in the neighborhood, has a dance floor, and they play Rap. But it got shot up last Friday, so everyone that is usually there, is here. I already spun from 9:30-11:30. Some fat chick came up to me, and started tapping me NON STOP, right as I was mixing in a song. The longer I took to respond, the harder she was hitting me. Like a 4 Year Old.

The immense level of ignorance is just funny to me now. Earlier tonight, all the older cats, left around from Happy Hour, were cool as a cucumber. Folks were asking me the names of tracks, so they could download, and some were dancing a lil bit. Now every one is Mean muggin each other like they have something to prove. Like these 4 guys over to my right for example. They are all leaning against the wall next to the ladies room door. Staring at all the girls walking into the bathroom like they are rapists. When did going out involve so much hostility and aggression. Isn't life about having fun and enjoying everyone else. I was too young to party in the 80's, but I'm sure everyone had a good ass time back then (even though the 80's were hella cheesey). Then Gangsta Rap and Alternative came along and encouraged everyone to be Sad and Angry. I grew up in the 90's so I still have a connection with that music, but it seems to me that things were more fun in the 60's (Hippies), 70's(Funk/Disco) and 80's(Real Hip Hop). Now what the hell is going on? Trends usually repeat every 20 years, so I am seeing alot of the 80s now. Like all the electro voices in pop music, and the colorful outfits (etc), but it doesn't seem like anyone is really having a great time. The spirit of these copied trends is lost in translation.

We must have had at least 20 ignorant people come up to the DJ Booth to request Bull Shit tonight. You may be thinking, "Well why don't you cater to your audience then?" My response is "Fuck Em" I would cater to people if they respected me, or themselves. Instead of coming up to talk shit, be civil, and eventually I will shift my music to gear toward the crowd. If people just asked nicely, I am usually cool. You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. But if you wanna act an ass, I'll intentionally play some stuff that I know you would hate. There have been many times that I respectfully deny a request, and the person understands and says thank you anyway. I usually end up playing their song request, just on the principal that they were respectful.

There are also hella Dudes in here tonight, and all the girls are avoiding this place cause the men are all grabby, immature and shitty tippers. One Bartender said it best. "Its like a locker room in here, just nasty sweaty ass dudes".

This lady came up to my boy earlier and was pestering his, so I snatched her away so he could mix. She was like, "Yo I got money, Whatever Dey is payin you Eye Uh Beat it." So I said cool, if you give us $300 right now we'll switch it up. She said "I got it like that fow Real". So we were like "Pull that shit out then, Be about it". She just kept runnin her lips and wasn't about shit. Now don't get me wrong, about 90% of the people in here are totally fine with what we are playing. Its just that other 10 percent that is pestering us. But God Bless em cause they sure are funny as hell to write about. One of the beautiful things about Oakland, and at the same time, the ugliest, is that people out here speak their mind. On the positive side, they speak out about injustices, and are activists. Most people are real out here, not really faking da Funk. If we got something to say here in Oakland, we are usually an open book. On the flip side though, sometimes its rude, disrespectful, ignorant and out of place to comment on certain things. Like if your Grandma cooked Christmas Dinner, but the Ham was a little Dry. You wouldn't go up to her and say, "Grandma you can't cook for Shit!" Same with a Bar or club, if you don't like it, go somewhere else. If you are an asshole, stupid, or close minded, then Fuck your opinion. You have no argument.

One younger girl came up to me and said, "Are you gonna play something I can dance to?" I said "This is House music! It is Dance Music! If you can't dance to it, that's not my problem." Besides that, its packed in here, there is no Dance Floor, and its not an actual Club, this is a lounge. She said "I'm from Oakland, we don't listen to music like that out here". I thought to myself, "What the Fuck? This Bitch is trippin!" There are half a million people in Oakland, and you assume that no one likes house out here. I was born and raised in Oakland, and some of the biggest club nights out here play House. I told her I was gonna play classical music, but she called my bluff. I have a lot of classical music that I use for wedding ceremonies, but You know that I would have been way out of Pocket, if I played Beethoven at Midnight on a Friday.



You know what else bugs me... When someone comes up to me and says, "Black Folks don't listen to this!" Every time I hear this I wanna throw a pie in their face. African people created house. If you go to New York, the House club are full of African folks. It is especially Funny when I'm playing a song that was produced by an African, the vocalist singing is African, and there are clearly African people in the place dancing.

Another girl came up to the DJ booth. Fine as all Outdoors. 5' 10" tall African girl with heels, and a top that is barely covering her chest. Her stomach is showing and those jeans are so damn tight that it looks like she was poured into them. I'm thinking, I hope this girl is cool, cause I really hate it when beautiful women have attitude problems. It can be difficult to find though. Sure enough she is a raging Bitch-Face-Slut-Whore-Fuck-Nuts. She came up to the DJ booth, as My other DJ was switching with me. She asks me if I'm the DJ. I say "Yeah but I'm off right now." She puts her hand in my face and pushes me out of her way. Then she starts baggering my DJ, trying to get his attention while he is mixing in his first song. So I get her attention and ask what she wanted, and that I'll relay the message to him. She says "Are you gonna take my request?" I replied with, "Well we really don't take requests, but if you like house music, we might have a house track you like. Are you gonna request House Music?" Obviously I know she's not. House Heads know better than to make requests. She says, "Yeah it's House Music." I replied, "OK". She stops for a second to think, then says, "What Is House Music? Is this House Music Playing?" I swear I was about to drop my fist to the floor, and swing it up as hard as I could, under her fine ass chin. After she finally left the DJ Booth, she walked up to the crowded bar, pushed everyone out of her way so she could squeeze to the front. Then started yelling at the bartenders for attention. She ordered 4 drinks for her and her friends, then complained that they were not made right. She started calling my bartender homegirl, a Bitch, and all other stuff.

Don't think this stuff only happens in the Hood either. When I spin in Suburban Neighborhoods, or for people with money, they can go Fuck themselves too. I swear to God i wanna stab the people that come at me with some Sense of Entitlement. I am not your God Damned Servant. Do I look like a Fuckin Day Laborer? Even if I was, you need to show some respect you Suburban, Sheltered, Beef Headed, Dickless Fuck! I have self respect and dignity. When you come at me, and command me to play a song "Right Now", you can go eat a Bowl of stale Dicks. Why the fuck are you at a party in Flip Flops anyway, you pansy. When a guy comes at me to play Lil Wayne, and he is wearing Flip Flops, Army Shorts, and has a Ryan Seacrest Haircut, I just imagine what would happen to him if he walked into my regular Oakland Spot like that. His Bitch ass would get stomped out barking orders like that. I am running a business here, I'm not just some guy that you can boss around and disrespect. And believe me, this is a pretty well paying business. When these people Hire me, then act like Fuckers, they are just throwing their money out the window because I am in control of whether or not their guests are on the dance floor. Do Not Piss Off Your DJ! I will not let you treat me like less of a Human Being.

I'm gonna laugh at one more person that pissed me off, on another night, then I'm putting My laptop away. I had to save the best Biaaaaaatch, for Liaaaaaaast.



I was doing a freelance gig for a lot of money. It was a holiday party for a Fire Department. I am in the middle of the set and the dance floor is packed. I'm playing all Top 40 hits, which is the norm for these parties. It is Estelle's "American Boy", and the entire crowd is singing along and throwing their hands in the air. Some sweaty piece of shit, muscle headed Fuck, comes up to the DJ Booth. He is one of those "Sense Of Entitlement" folks. He grabs me and says, "Let me plug in my I-Pod and play a song". I'm a little pissed, but I keep cool. I say, "These people are paying me a lot of money for professional service. Your request is out of the question." He continues in a steroid rage, "Come on! Its my Band! Play our Song!" Now think about it folks, do you think these people give half a shit about this Douche Bag's Loser Band? I am still in the middle of my set and this Ass Face is distracting me now. I am still calm, but I need to get this guy away. As nice as I could explain, I say, "Sorry man, no one here knows your music, and no one wants to hear it. Your music will clear the dance floor". Then I realized that this guy, is that "ONE GUY", who always gets drunk and ruins the party, whenever he goes out. I see it all the time. He grabs me and says, "What the Fuck did you say? I will beat the Fuck out of You right now!" At that moment, I turned off all the power to the music, and the room went silent. Everyone saw the guy, and I yelled "Get this Guy Off of Me Right Now! Any form of Assault is a Void of Contract!" Everyone starts yelling at the guy, and two people grabbed him and kicked him out. By then it was too late. He ruined the vibe of the party and everyone started to pack up and leave. I had 3 hours left when this guy harassed me, but by the time there was an Hour left, the place was empty. That is my point about pissing off your DJ, he is in control. If you fuck with the DJ, you are just fucking yourself. By the way... I later found out that the guy was like a ninja or something, so he probably would have Fucked me up. Oh well, I'm from Oakland, I've dealt with worse. You need a strong backbone in the Hood.

So that's what I'm surrounded by right now. Tonight will be over soon, then I'm gonna go home and get some booty.

"Can I get extra tip!"

So this is a classic incident of a dude trying to be a "pimp" or player in front of his lady friends. So I'm going to name this guy "Bud." Bud is a short, stumpy, pretty muscular sterioded-out looking guy wearing fake "ed-hardly" long sleeve and jeans, who walks in with another guy, I'm guessing his homeboy, and

two other ladies. Cute Ladies to be more descriptive. They have a seat at the bar and Bud begins to order drinks for the his entourage. "2 Patron Cadillac Margarita's, a Patron shot and a Don Julio and cranberry," he says. I the bartender proceeds to make his order. I just want to point out that the margarita's come in tall glasses and the Don Julio and cranberry come in short glasses.

So I proceed to making the drinks and put them in front of him. He looks at his drink, the Don Julio and cranberry, and gives me a look like I messed up on his drink. With a condescending look he says sternly, "Put this in a tall glass." Transalation into bartender's perspective (if you've been keeping up with these blogs) pour the drink into a taller glass and add more juice because you pay per shot. He tastes the drink and with a dissappointing look he says with a little feminine attitude in his voice, "Can I get more alcohol?" It was the beginning of my shift, I had forgot to mention. I told myself I would just let it go, so I did. I gave him more alcohol thinking to myself, "I know this muscle-head won't even tip me extra." Like I said it was the beginning of my shift.

"45 dollars," I told him. Again with a weird retarded-like look he says, "Well let me get another Don Julio and Cranberry, tall." I make it and say, "55 dollars please." Let me break down the math for you, at my bar we charge $13 for a Patron Cadillac, $10 for a shot of Don Julio and $9 for a Patron shot. If you like drinking the good shit, don't expect it to be cheap or get more than a shot, you'd better have money to pay for it. So he pulls out a wad of money and puts a 50 dollar bill, a 5 dollar bill and 3 ones on the bartop. I grab his pile of money and as I'm counting the amount and putting it into my til I say, "Wow," like I knew this would happen and that this guy is like I thought he was, a muscle-head!

My barback turns around to me and asks me why I say wow and I tell him the story, and he says loudly, "Wow," and we both just start laughing at the dude. Bud looks at us and says, "What's up?" my barback replies, "Can we get more tip," jokingly of course. Bud in his defense says,"I just gave you all that money."

Let me break down the math one more time: a $3 tip for a tab total of $55 is a 5% percent tip. This is clearly a tip only given to service people who give you bad service, or if you are foreigners, or if you don't know better....wait I think Bud falls into the last category...no, he's just a stupid dick. He didn't even follow the $1 per drink rule either. If he had followed that rule I would have made at least $5. The only reason why I was a tad upset was because I gave him a little more Don Julio and let him push me to do that. Like I said, it was the beginning of the night, I'm a little more easy-going.

Funny part was the girls he was with knew better and as they were leaving they gave me an extra $10. I stopped them from leaving and made a shot for the two girls, myself and my barback right in front of poor ol Bud who was left out. Made him look like a cheap lonely loser! HAHAHA...

From a Bartender's Perspective

Man I have to let all the good people know what I have to deal with every night at work.  I guess some people just don't know how to act when they go out.  Its either they don't know better or just plain are ignorant.  I have to tell you though sometimes these incidences can be too funny to get angry about.  I mean I wonder to myself, where the hell do they get this stuff from.  I've compiled some things that I hear from customers and I'll let you guys know what bartenders are probably thinking....If you are one of these people, I hope that you will take in consideration what the bartender might be thinking and maybe what altercations you will be facing ahead of you or how weak your drink might be...

"Let me get a strong island...."

 Bartender:  This person is too cheap and such an idiot because everyone knows that a long island has damn near every alcohol in it.  Your gonna get a lot more triple sec (cheap orange flavored liqueur)  and sweet and sour.

"Not too much ice...."

Bartender: Like I said earlier hella cheap.  Ice is an important part of the drink.  You pay for a standard shot in the drink, me giving you less ice means more juice.  You pay per shot, you telling me less ice doesn't mean I will give you more alcohol.

"Let me get that in a tall glass..."

Bartender:  You think I'm gonna give you more alcohol because you asked for a tall glass....no!  Like I said you pay per shot.  If you want more alcohol pay for a double.  

"I can't taste the alcohol..."

Bartender: Its probably cause you didn't tip for shit earlier, you asked for less ice, you asked for a tall glass or finally, you are a damn alcoholic!

"Hey, hey, hey!"

Bartender: First and foremost, I the bartender can see you and will get to you when I can.  Yelling at me won't make me go faster but probably ignore you.  You probably won't even know what you want when I get to you anyway!

"Why did you skip me...."

Bartender:  After yelling at me and flagging me down to ask you what you want, you said, "uuhh, uhhh," you should have had your order ready.  Time is money and waiting on you to make up your mind is loosing me money!

Here are just a few and trust me I have more but until next time.  If you fall into one of these scenarios then please reread and take into consideration before going into the bar.  Thanks

I Will Deflate Your Ass

These series of events took place at the end of a normal night. I was playing Trip Hop and Hip Hop Instrumentals all night, and had just played the last song of the evening. Its about 1:30am and I'm hanging out at the bar with 3 Regulars, and the bartender. There are about 6 other people in the bar spread out talking amongst themselves. Its a cold Winter night with the rain coming and going, and I'm waiting to get my money so I can go home. I hear someone outside yelling into the Bar, "Aye DJay, Lemme Halla Aaatchuh". I look over at the guy with Corn Rows and a red T-Shirt so baggy it looked like a mini-Skirt, and say "Come inside if you wanna talk, Its Cold Outside." He Repeats this 2 more times waving his arms violently towards himself, signaling that he is gettin impatient with my response, and he really wants me to come outside. I began to get suspicious cause there was no logical reason for me to be standing in the cold with some idiot. I eventually ignore him, which results in him coming inside. He whispers in My ear "Lemme Halluh Aaatchuh Owe-sigh." (Sorry, Its hard for me to write ghetto. Square Translation: "I would care to exchange words with you Outside") I say "Dude just tell me what you want already." He replies with, "Aye Play Dat Musiq Soulchild song Love."

First of all, I don't take requests. Second, the music is already done for the night. Third, I didn't play any R&B the whole night. Fourth, The Bartender already announced Last Call. Fifth, this cat is an annoying piece of Rhinoceros Shit!

He tosses a pile of 1 dollar bills at me like he's dealing cards at a poker game, and Says in a more stern tone, "Play Dat Musiq Soulchild". I tell him that I'm sorry, But I'm done for the night. The bartender steps in and says, "Hey Man I was feeling what the DJ was playing tonight, we hire him to do his thang, besides, I already Did last call". Thats when things started to get real ugly. The Wanksta, replies with "Oh So You Da Motha Fukkin Boss Now Huh? What you Gon do Huh?"

My boy was drinkin on the other end of the bar and walks up to the scenario. Now this cat is Huge, like 6'6", and plays ball like its goin outta style. You really don't wanna be on this cats bad side. He towers over this little punk bitch, casting a shadow over him like an eclipse. My boy is peaceful, at least he tries to keep the peace I should say. He says to the dude "Hey man, its the end of the night, we're all just kickin it, bout to go home. No one's tryin to start any shit". But this angry guy was the definition of HARD HEADED. He looks up at my boy and says "What Nigga? I will deflate your ass!" I swear to god I almost fell over laughing. That just sounded too damn funny to me. I just pictured Bugs Bunny and Elmer Fudd chasing each other around, and when Elmer Fudd looks in a tree, Bugs Bunny Pulls out a giant safety pin and Pops his Ass like a Balloon. I say to the guy, "Yo man, you're a little outnumbered here. Me, The Bartender, My Boy, two regulars, and the rest of the bar that aren't gonna let their DJ and Bartender get whooped." He comes up to Me saying, "What White Boy" over and over. That word is like a trigger to me. Remember in Back to the Future when Michael J Fox goes Ape Shit, When He's Called Yellow? That's how I get. I went to a Mostly black High school, and was literally, let me Repeat That...LITERALLY, the only white guy in the entire school. There were 2 White girls, but they tried to act Mexican to fit in. So whenever I got picked on, it was always based on Racism. If you think White people are never discriminated against, try growing up in Deep East Oakland.

I tried and tried to keep my cool, seeing that I could lose this DJ gig if I attacked this Retard. But he got in my face and hit me with this weak ass punch. I think he was gonna slap me, but changed his mind halfway through, so it ended up being a tap on the chin with his fist. With no hesitation I cracked him in his Jaw, Full force. Before he even hit the ground, he was getting stomped by the 3 of us. He ducked down, so all I could do was sock him on the top of his head repeatedly. My boy started kicking him with his big ass boots, and I think he accidentally kicked the bartender a few times. I was side swiped by the ugly ass girl he was with. She grabbed a fist full of my hair and ripped it out of my skull. You know the sound Velcro makes? I heard that sound in my head when she ripped my hair out. So instead of fighting a girl, I just snatched the glasses off her face, smashed them, and threw em.

The guy got pushed outside and was making all sorts of Gun Threats, but his chick was still inside trying to fight me. As much as I wanted to slap her like Rick James did Charlie Murphy, I knew I couldn't hit the Skank. So I decided to just scare the crap out of her. I picked up a lamp and started yelling at her like a Crack Head. Saying "You wanna Fight Me Like A Man? I'll Beat Your ass Like A man!" She started to back up, and I put the lamp down. But Then She ran up and picked up the lamp, so I grabbed a Bar stool and faked a swing at her. She finally retreated. About 5 minutes after we locked the door, she starts banging on the door and yelling through the mail slot, "I need my Glasses! I can't drive home without them!" We were all inside thinking, "Yeah Right, you aint gettin Shit Bitch". We called the cops, and I guess the guy ran off cause he was on Parole. Fuckin Idiot! The cops came in with the girl and they found the destroyed glasses and left. The cops didn't even take down a report, even though the guy was making gun threats. After the Fire cooled down, I found a giant chunk of my hair on the ground, the size of a baseball. One of the Bar Backs had come in earlier, and got Drunk as hell. He was passed out on a couch in the back, while all of this went down. When he woke up, he said "What!? I missed all that!? I would have destroyed that little bastard!"


The chump came back 4 days later and was acting like nothing had happened. He just casually walked in and started hanging out, while I was spinning, and the Bartender was serving. We had security get him out, and after we told them why, they were saying "Damn I wish we were there so we could have stomped his ass out too". Some people will never learn until they are Six Feet Under. Is one song really worth doing jail time over, or getting sent to the Hospital? Besides That, How Hardcore are you really, if you are requesting a love ballad from the DJ?

5, 6, 7, 8! - 5, 6, 7, 8!

Its a very lonely night for one Birthday Boy.

This was a slow Sunday night at the Local Lounge, and I was spinning some Semi-Commercial Old School tunes, like Confunkshun, Bar Kays, Midnight Star (etc). This Older Gentleman in his late 30's-Early 40's comes in and sits down on the couch, alongside the DJ Booth. Eventually he approaches me and Says its his birthday. Usually this is the Universal lie people say to get a DJ to play a song for them. Instead, this guy says I need a drinking buddy. Now I'm not really a big Drinker and I rarely Drink when I Spin. I also hate tequila. But for some odd reason, I decided to ignore those 3 rules. I figured, its slow as hell in the bar, so I might as well get drunk to speed up the night. BAD IDEA!

This cat was not a regular, but I had seen him before, and chatted briefly. He seemed Harmless, plus he was buying the drinks, and bringing them to me while I Spun. He was a very soft spoken gay guy, that was a bit over weight. I mean he was really, really soft spoken. I've heard Flies Fuck louder than this guy speak. He brings me Shot # 1, we cheers, I say Happy Birthday, then Down The Hatch. I'm Sure the Bartender was scratching his head in confusion, but nevertheless, he must have known something entertaining would come from this dude. He started pouring heavy shots for the 2 of us to try and get us destroyed. The 2nd Patron Shot Slides down my Esophagus and his. The big guy starts getting a little loose. He starts sparking conversation and complimenting me. I hate it when people talk too much while I'm spinning. A very brief exchange of words is OK, but i get pissed when it lasts through a whole song or two. This is when I realized I may have made a bad decision.

Shot # 3 is Drained after I say "This is my last one bro". I may as well have been talking to the wall, cause he sure as hell ignored my statement. He brings up Shot # 4 and starts taunting me like a college Frat boy at a keg party, when i Refuse. Since I had Already started drinking, I wanted to continue, but not with this guy. He begs and begs, and eventually I cave in to the peer pressure. Before I even started sucking the lime, he had already started going for another round. I'm getting Fucked up at this point, and my mixing was horrible. As he's handing me a 5th shot, He starts saying how cool I am to be drinking with a gay guy, and how I don't judge. He says "You are so fine, but I respect you, and I would never cross that Line". He goes on and on about how he finds me so attractive, but he emphasizes the fact that he respects me enough to never make any advances. Shot 6 is on its way and we are both getting bent.

At this point in the night, he is no longer the silent guy in the corner. He is up at the DJ booth screaming things in my ear like "Yeah, Play that Shit!", "WOOOOOOOO" "Go DJ, Go DJ", and a bunch of cheesy Cliches that you would say if you were at a hip hop show in 1983. By now I'm getting wasted and he is obviously hammered. After shot #7, he starts getting really really into the music and is pounding on the DJ booth with his hands, to the beat of the music. He is really loud and annoying at this point. Howling and banging. He starts belting out a repetitive count to the Beat... Five-Six -Seven-Eight! Five-Six -Seven-Eight! Five-Six -Seven-Eight! over and over like he was in a damn marching band. He is screaming this and slapping his hand on the DJ booth. It goes on for about 6 minutes. My CD wallet is on a chair next to me, so I turn away from him to bend over and find the next song to play. As I'm combing through my music, I Feel him behind me. Before I could turn around, this guy gives me a huge bear hug while i am in a position of submission. Homey Don't Play Dat!

I shot up like I stuck a fork in an electrical outlet and got zapped. I began to scold him like a toddler. And basically put his ass on Time Out. He got the point and mellowed out. But by now, the whole bar was watching as was laughing their asses off. I mean come on man... If you are telling me all night that you have a crush on me, then you spoon me as I'm bent over, that's grounds for an ass whoopin. Even if he was straight, and had just put his arm on my shoulder, that still would have been grounds for a beat down. I don't want any S.O.B. putting their hands on me unless I know them. Back Up Fool! The night winds down and the bartender kicks everyone out, and Drunk guy asks if I wanna come over to his House. Obviously the answer was "Hell Naw!"

He waits outside of the locked bar for a bit, waiting for me to come out, but I stayed for a while to sober up, and to talk mad shit about the guy to the bartender. Then about 2 weeks later, the guy calls me. I guess I had given him my business card a while back, before I found out he was insane. He says to me, "I'm starting a massage therapy business, and i need to make brochures." "Can you pose nude for me with a towel on while I massage you for a Photo Shoot" "The pictures will be used for my Brochures". I turned him down, and he ends up showing up at the bar again. I was talking to a girl and telling her the story about the guy, while he was sitting next to the DJ booth. I made sure I was talking loud enough for him to hear. He got up and left, never to be seen again

Sean the Conqueror

This blog is dedicated to my girls probably getting way to faded in Las Vegas as I write this.  So we start this episode with on a Tuesday night, normal night like any other weekday night.  my regulars came in insisting that "being responsible" tonight was because they had to work the nest day.  This was a couple of days after California had a time change of because of daylight savings.  Maxwell, Sydney and Charlie all sat in front of my well and first started off with washington apple shots (3/4 oz crown royal, 3/4 apple pucker and cranberry juice).  Everything was cool and we had a conversation about them going to Las Vegas.

These girls are so much fun and so animated.  As a bartender you love when regulars like these come into your bar.  It makes work enjoyable and the time passes when it's slow.  They keep me entertained!  Especially when they are drunk.  Its comedy.  So this guy comes in the bar and orders a Sierra Nevada.  I serve him and he just stands at the bar.  My regulars are looking at some video they had just taken with their new video recorder and this gut who just ordered his beer asks them if he can see it too.  This guy was really invading their personal space, I mean his whole body was literally on Maxwell.  It was Maxwell, Sydney and then Charlie.  Sydney was looking at the video and she was in the middle, so this dude was trying to see it and completely was almost laying on Maxwell.  I get this "is this guy serious" look from Maxwell with a smirk like "this guy is crazy."  I have to say it was pretty funny.

Guy had no game talking about my name is Construction Sean.  Charlie misheard him and said, "Conqueror Sean?!"  I started to laugh as well as everyone else.  I mean this dude was cracking me up.  The things that he was saying to these girls were hilarious.  He didn't even make sense, he seemed like he was on one.  The girls were being good sports and just went with it.  From behind the bar it was like a sitcom of America's funniest bar videos!  The topper of the whole event was when he was leaving.  

He said his goodbyes to both Maxwell and Sydney but when he got to Charlie he took it a step further and tried to give a kiss on the cheek.  She was like president Bush ducking from the shoe being thrown at him.  He got dissed hard and I turned and almost fell into my well.  Charlie was like, "whoaa! uh ugh!"  Comedy I tell, almost like, you had to have been there to see this all unfolding.  They should get their own show, I would definitely watch it.