I was briefly a bartender and I found your description of bars engaging. I enjoyed watching the customers on the other side of the bar. The intersection of all those lives meeting in front of me told many a story. You delivered another well-written piece.
I tended bar in a tiny town in Idaho a million years ago. It was interesting - lots of truck drivers, loggers, cops, people betting on the horse races (discreetly), and lots of playing pool.
Interesting. My gig was in a Club for wealthy people ($30,000 per year dues). They were no different than the assortment of people I met in dive bars, just wealthier.
yep, My family owned restaurants when I was growing up. My brother took our child-labor exploitation experience to occasionally waiting tables. The difference between the exclusive clubs and roadside diners was the quality of wine, coffee beans, and markups. What one described as "Chef Rihanna's magnificent blend of rare premium cuts marinated with playful spices" was "lefover meatloaf" at another. Marketing works, especially if it's an exclusive offer and the servers shower. :)
Thanks for the impressive ride.. I followed you from Medium. There are elements here I can identify with - Oregon, pool tricks, bartending, convincing yourself it's not cold... but I have a feeling this is going in another direction. I'm looking forward to more.
Aah, what you evoke is almost unbearable. There is always a mirror in my face when I read Roman Newell. It reminds me of a time when I was running from myself and ran into Nick Hornby. And myself. Just powerful.
I was briefly a bartender and I found your description of bars engaging. I enjoyed watching the customers on the other side of the bar. The intersection of all those lives meeting in front of me told many a story. You delivered another well-written piece.
I tended bar in a tiny town in Idaho a million years ago. It was interesting - lots of truck drivers, loggers, cops, people betting on the horse races (discreetly), and lots of playing pool.
Interesting. My gig was in a Club for wealthy people ($30,000 per year dues). They were no different than the assortment of people I met in dive bars, just wealthier.
yep, My family owned restaurants when I was growing up. My brother took our child-labor exploitation experience to occasionally waiting tables. The difference between the exclusive clubs and roadside diners was the quality of wine, coffee beans, and markups. What one described as "Chef Rihanna's magnificent blend of rare premium cuts marinated with playful spices" was "lefover meatloaf" at another. Marketing works, especially if it's an exclusive offer and the servers shower. :)
Raw, self-deprecating, Roman at his best as always.
Evocative beyond words, my friend. Phew. I need a book of exactly this yesterday
Season of the Styx more like it amirite? /s
(Now you got that song stuck in my head, and I’d just stopped hearing it on the radio 😵💫)
I reminds me of the song season of the witch.
Ryan, I don’t even know if I’m familiar with that song. I’ll check it out.
It's not an exact correlation. The vibe just caught my attention.
Beautiful writing
Thank you, my friend.
Thanks for the impressive ride.. I followed you from Medium. There are elements here I can identify with - Oregon, pool tricks, bartending, convincing yourself it's not cold... but I have a feeling this is going in another direction. I'm looking forward to more.
Very nice! Particularly like the rhythmic play and changes throughout.
Thanks, Dev.
Aah, what you evoke is almost unbearable. There is always a mirror in my face when I read Roman Newell. It reminds me of a time when I was running from myself and ran into Nick Hornby. And myself. Just powerful.
Home was never in my folded notes, either. Beautiful writing.