Amateur Night

Back in the day, when I was as young and pretty as I used to like to think I was, New Years Eve was a money night for me because I was tending bar. It meant several hundred dollars to me and it was a relatively sober night that I just hoped to survive. In this neighborhood of the country, it can sometimes mean lots of snow and it's always cold. And, it almost always means an onslaught of annual partiers trying way too hard to have way too much of a good time.

One year I was working days at a place that was really a night club and I was free to spend the night at my girlfriend's. I had a really nice time. I'll spare you the details except to brag that we made love for two years! I'm that good, ladies. Still am. I guess...

Anyway, it had snowed heavily that NYE and going home to change into my work clothes was stupid and out of the way so I showered and wore last years outfit. I worked the whole damn day without anyone noticing that I was out of uniform. The brilliant young manager who had herself spent the night at a nearby motel, thanks to the storm and was in her last year's fashion, took umbrage at my attire as I punched out to leave. I explained the weather related circumstances to her, reminded her where she had spent her night and she still wanted to know why I was in street clothes. She knew everything that you now know (sans the dirty stuff I boasted about) and asked again.

"I got no fucking idea," I replied as I walked out of the door and away from her density.

I decided to go by my old place of employment where they were a bit more receptive to the ways and means of a Ferrerman, and see about getting the old job back. It was my home away from home as I wound up working there, off and on, for the better and worse part of ten years. I'd get fired, I'd quit, but I was always welcomed back.

Walking up to the place, I noticed plywood over what had been a plate glass window on the business next door. Uh oh. That couldn't be good. Inside, I found Nicky Takis, the younger brother of Tommy, the owner's oldest son.

The Takis family had a bad habit of good deals on NYE that entailed opening the bar for six hours for the bargain price of about $25 a head, or so. Food included. Maybe it was $35 (it's been years) but it was low. You make money at this, as crazy as it sounds, because most people don't drink that much. A few bottomless boozers aren't going to break you. Same with a buffet. It works out, believe it or not.

Nicky filled me in on the nights events. "We could have used you last night, Ferrerman." A rather large group of young Italian gentlemen had partaken of the offering and been unpleasant campers. They kinda thought they had the literal run of the place. I don't recall if they had hired a bouncer for the night but, even if they had, it would have been one tough guy against maybe 25 buddies. Not good odds. I was younger then and actually wished I could have been there. It's not that I like to fight- I don't- it's just that I have a sense of fair play and law and order, and you do what you gotta do, when you gotta do it. The Greeks were my friends. When I worked for them and trained new bartenders, I had them swear an oath to defend the bar against all enemies, foreign and domestic. Your almost always outnumbered, you know, like the Sheriff and his deputy holding off the angry lynch mob. And sometimes that deputy is cute young girl. It can be dicey until the cavalry comes in the form of kitchen help and maybe good regulars. And police too. The drunks always say that they'll fight them too but, often change their minds.

So it was Nicky and Tommy, maybe the bartenders and some concerned bystanders against these miscreants. At one point, young Nicky was struggling with one of them and he asked why they all were doing this. Ever so matter-a-factly the guy proclaimed: "Because we're ITALIAN!"

Does it get any more succinct than that? No offense to Italians but, I thought that was hilarious.

The fight carried outside and Tommy wound up getting shoved into the plate glass window. He received a walnut-sized knot on his forehead that he may still have. I know he had it for the next several years that I knew him, at least. I've long since forgotten why they couldn't fix it. The poor bastard was already as handsome as the actor, Ernest Borgnine and the lump didn't help that. I guess it didn't hurt either, now that I mention it.

Everyone survived. I think the Italians might have evaded arrest but, I don't remember. Most banquets with open bars go off rather well. After the first hour or so, once the initial onslaught of bargain hunters subsides and people start thinking about their livers and or the drive home, it's not so bad. That first hour it's like pigs at a feeding trough. I think people might fear that the house is going to wise up and re-nig on the deal. "What were we thinking?!" New Year's though, goes a bit harder. Hardly anyone has anywhere to be the next day and many feel the need to get tore up from the floor up...because it's New Years Eve.... That about sums up Amateur Night and amateurs succinctly.

Buon Anno dedito non-readers!