Drunk Coworkers

Everybody has crazy co-workers, but, in a bar, fueled by alcohol, the insanity tends to burn like a powder keg. When you’re the only one working, an internal war wages about how to treat a drunk out of control patron, and the winning solution usually lies somewhere between a smile while politely asking them to leave (“I’ll buy you a beer the next time you come in, but now you’ve got to go.”) and a phone call to the cops. When that patron is also one of your co-workers, the balance is even more delicate.

I actually really like all of my co-workers, which hasn’t always been the case. I used to work with a guy whose entire existence revolved around getting me fired. I still work there and he doesn’t, so his efforts weren’t successful, but they did make for an extremely unpleasant working environment.

As is generally the case when someone fixates on another person, I think it had more to do with him and his hatred of women than it did with anything I ever did to him. He liked to claim I called him fat, and, even if it were true, I’d still think he was a pussy for whining about it two years later.

What I did say, after asking him to move out of the only entrance to the bar more than once so I could deliver drinks on a busy shift, was, “you’re not as skinny as you think you are.” I would have said it to Kate Moss. It’s a narrow corridor and with a bunch of drinks in your hand, two people don’t fit. He complained about it to our boss, who, instead of getting mad at me, started calling him “Tubby.”

A few nights later, he got really drunk and came into the bar with some friends while I was working. He went behind the bar and got his friend’s drinks and then tried, in his drunken state, to put his money into my register. One of the perks of Z-Tavern is that staff drinks for free, but, if it’s busy, the catch is that you should be the first person to get up and help. I have no problem with anyone getting their own drinks, but going into my register is another issue. Especially if you’re someone who has made no secret of trying to get me fired.

I told him to give me the money and tell me what he wanted me to ring in. He turned around and started screaming at me, repeatedly calling me a cunt. I didn’t call the cops, he was a co-worker and I hoped it would work itself out. Eventually he left and a week later he quit working at the bar when the owner told him that he wouldn’t fire me.

Had anyone else behaved that way and refused to leave, I would have called the police immediately, but how do you work together after you’ve had a police officer physically take someone away? What do you say? “Thanks for taking out the trash, how was the night in jail? ... I hear they have great food.”

A year ago, when he came in again and pulled the same drunken act, I had no problem dialing the non-emergency line and giving them his name and description. I even filed a report. I can be understanding about his motives, but I’d like the police to know where to start the search if anything ever happens to me.

Two years later, I’m still hearing about it. I used to take the high road and refuse to comment about the guy, but then I heard he was walking around telling people he’d punch me in the face if I were a guy. Pretty classy, eh? Especially since he never has to prove it.

I’m done with people saying they like both of us and don’t want to get involved. When he screamed at me a year ago, there were two men in the bar that I would have considered friends before the incident. They are both in the service industry and one of them was working behind the bar with me that night. They both stood there and did nothing while this man screamed obscenities at me. I honestly believe, and I hold myself to this same standard, that if your friend is out of control in a bar and you do nothing to help, you are just as much at fault.

When you work in a bar, you have to be careful how wild and crazy you and your friends behave when you’re there as a customer. We might not put on suits and ties when we go to work, but it’s still our place of business and there is a standard of behavior to which we should all adhere, especially when it comes to how we treat our coworkers, even if they aren’t also our friends.

Male Friends

I just spent the week working with one of my best male friends and I think it put elements of my dating life in perspective. Nothing like a great guy who loves you, but isn’t trying to get in your pants, to make you reexamine your criteria for a relationship.

We spent the week in Ventura, California, and the surrounding areas, working on a bike ride to raise money for the National Multiple Sclerosis Society. Our week was intense. We spent four full days together in a van that would make any soccer mom proud and two days moving signs around a parking lot. We also shared a room because we were working freelance and it’s cheaper. Two beds, nothing saucy, but there is definitely an intimacy that evolves when spending that much time together.

By the end of the week, we had our own language and theories on the world. Anyone whom we didn’t like was an “Oxnard,” no offense intended to the inhabitants of the town. “Shine-grabbers” take unjustified credit for someone else’s work, though it might be an interesting way to identify yourself on a business card. And any self respecting gay puppet should know better than to sport a mono-brow.

We covered the big stuff, too. His big concern for the week was whether it was lame to send his girlfriend flowers again. He’d been on two previous business trips and sent flowers to her office on each one. I met his girlfriend once over dinner and drinks when I was in Boulder (where they live), and I think she is awesome. I hoped I was giving the correct advice when I said “yes, it is always cool to get flowers at work.”

He made the call and felt momentarily guilty at how easy it was. He wondered aloud, “why don’t all guys do this?” Hmmm, interesting question.

My concern was my co-worker at Z-Tavern. I have a pretty big crush on him, but, in a line he stole straight off of a chapter heading in the book “He’s Just Not That Into You”, he’s “scared to ruin our friendship”.

Okay, I believed him. We were really good friends before the whole mess started, and getting involved is definitely driving us apart, but still I’m confused. Aren’t you supposed to be best friends with the person you date? Friendship is the foundation of a good relationship, so how can it also be an excuse not to move forward?

Sex is easy. It’s a basic biological act. Sure it takes some skill to do it well, and there are attraction and compatibility elements, but even fruit flies can figure out the sex part, it’s having dinner together after that’s tricky. Especially here in A-Town where anyone can walk into any bar and find someone with whom to have sex. You just need the right attitude, which definitely involves low standards and no expectations about where it’s going to lead.

I looked to my friend; the guy whom I’d bumped into close to fifty times as we walked through doors. I kept expecting him to keep going and instead he’d back up to hold the door open for me. He was raised well. I’ve read the book, I’ve seen the movie, but still I needed to hear it from the male friend whose opinion I trust more than most.

It sounds like Z-Tavern guy isn’t getting his act together, you need to move on.

Words I’ve repeatedly spoken to friends with boy problems, why couldn’t I see it myself? I know that you can’t change someone or fast track them to be ready for a relationship when they’re not, why was I making so many excuses for my Z-Tavern co-worker? We’ve got the physical part down, we were really good friends, if we can’t make the next step work, the reason why doesn’t matter. My head knows it’s true, but it’s just taking my heart a little while to catch up.

My friend held doors for me, made u-turns on busy streets so I didn’t have to run across traffic and cared enough to talk it out when the long hours, strenuous work and extended time together took its toll on our interactions. He sent his girlfriend flowers and he set an example for me. I’m not saying there weren’t moments when he drove me crazy, or vice versa, but we genuinely care about each other and our friendship, even when it’s not fun or convenient.

I live in a community where there are somewhere between three and seven men to every woman, it depends on which town and what season, but still we chant the mantra “the odds are good but the goods are odd.” Even with a random and incestuous pool of possible dates, I still think friendship is the cornerstone of a good relationship. I guess I needed to spend a week with an amazing friend to remind me that I need to raise my standards; for people I date and for people I consider friends.