Casey LaRoe's rule number 1: Any job becomes a job. Some of you reading this may think you have the perfect career. A place that feeds your creative side and fulfills you in indescribable ways. My reaction to that is that you just haven't been there long enough. I know lots of young people who think that when they get out of college they will find a calling that will make everything that they've gone through up until then worth it. They wont. Eventually everything you have to do becomes work.
My job, bar tending at a retro fusion Indian restaurant in the suburbs has been a job from day one. There's nothing glamorous about it. Sure, there's the moments here and there when I'm slinging drinks and chatting up some middle aged divorcee that I've convinced, though eye contact and body language, that I want to go home with. Those moments are nice, but for every minute of that there are ten of wiping up nasty spillage, spoiled juices, emptying trash, and cleaning the thick orange mango lassi out of glasses by hand before they can go into the dishwasher.
The people I work with, they are... interesting. The owner is Indian, he's authentic and a nice enough guy. His wife and partner is a slender blond bombshell from some eastern block former Soviet nation and runs the place like a Communist party leader. They're an interesting couple and hey, they gave me a job, so I've got no complaints, and if I did I'd keep them to my fucking self.
The rest of the cast of characters is equally bizarre. The "General Manager" if you can call her that since Lady Stalin makes her run every thought she has by her before generally vetoing it and then implementing a worse version of the same plan, is also eastern block. She's a fit and well put together twenty something from Lithuania. She's got dark hair cut into a Euro style bob and speaks with ever so slightly broken English that get's sexier the more broken it gets.
She's married to Evan, the other bartender at the place that's not currently dead. He's former Military Intelligence and would scare the shit out of me if he weren't such a nice guy. Fit and athletic but still down to earth. He's a connoisseur of beer and bourbon and makes drinks with a perfectionism that, while not fast, is precise and keeps the customers coming back.
The other pseudo-manager is Jana. She's a Jordanian princess. No shit. She's literally a fucking princess that works at a bar. Okay a restaurant. You can believe me or not, but I guarantee if you put a pea under her sleep number mattress she wouldn't sleep for a week. She's attractive. She's got a nice body and her face is straight up pretty, but her personality will turn you off faster than a penny in a fuse box.
Beyond them we have a Ukrainian that speaks Italian and Spanish; a Tibetan who somehow puts her sister through college in the city on what she makes here. There's a polish busser, a musician/magician server, and a dancer who constantly has me all tied up in knots.
In the kitchen we have a Cooks from Mexico and Nepal, and expediters that look like the cast of breaking bad. There's also the slew of high school kids that buss tables, polish dishes and generally keep the rest of us feeling like were one inappropriate joke away from a call to DCFS.
Oh, and there's Aaron, I mentioned him on twitter tonight. I fucking hate that guy. I don't know why, but he just makes me want to smack him upside the head with a bottle of Purity Vodka. In case you don't know, that's a heavy bottle.
It's an interesting group to spend time with, but it's still a job and since the only way I even got this gig was because I found my predecessor dead in the ally, I'm not likely to rock the boat to much. The goal is to keep my head down, do what's asked of me (no matter how demeaning it may seem) and generally just keep on keeping on.
In the meantime, I'm still trying to look into the corpse I replaced. It seems strange to have a simple bartender murdered execution style outside a suburban eatery, but if there's one thing I've learned it's that no one here is as simple as they seem. I'll let you all know when I find something out.