Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one.

Well, it's been a while (again), and I figured it was about time to write a new blog because the note on my phone with all my random thoughts has become roughly about the length of the second Lord of the Rings novel.

A long, long time ago, on a Wi-Fi network far, far away, I wrote one of my first posts which for a brief second mentioned some of the pun-based businesses I wanted to open.   The other day I came up with an addition to that list:  It's called Deja Food, and the restaurant specials repeat randomly at varying lengths of time.

I've also been pondering a lengthy list of things recently.  Some are deep, some are completely ridiculous.  A few include:

-I wonder how many places I've already been for the last time?

-What is a Casbah, and how do I rock it?

-Are there any times on the clock that I haven't seen?

-What was the worst thing ever done for a Klondike Bar?

Let's do some venting.  As many of you may know, I work in a bar.  I will refrain from using the real name of the bar for reasons involving the safety of my employment, but suffice it to say that it is a very popular bar in a public area, which assures that we entertain guests of all different varieties.  Now stereotypes are usually negative, but I can attest that for the most part they exist for a reason, and working in a bar you get very accustomed to judging people as soon as they walk in the door solely based on your overwhelming past experiences.  Don't get me wrong, it is possible, and very refreshing, for someone to completely defy the stereotype, it just isn't all that common.  Here are a few I have become familiar with, along with the nicknames I have given them:  (Apologies in advance for the inevitable offense this will cause.)

The Suit:  The Suit is a businessman.  The Suit is a successful businessman doing very well for himself, he is very proud of it, and he will let you know.  Sometimes this is via taking care of the whole check in a grandiose and flamboyant manner, or sometimes he will just up and tell you that he has, and this is a direct quote, "a seven digit salary and a Pringles can for a d!#k."  That should pretty much tell you everything you need to know about The Suit.  Forecast:  Partly douchey with heavy narcissism in the late evening.

The Chad:  Chad is the nickname I have given to the stereotypical "bro".  Chads usually travel in packs, and seen in anything from neon tank tops to hats that say "Cocaine & Caviar", Chad is usually a process to deal with.  It's a safe bet to say Chad is drinking vodka Red Bull, whiskey ginger, or vodka soda with extra lemons.  Not all of them are fighters, but, well, yes they are.  Chad will talk loudly about wanting to meet chicks, will approach several with questionable tactics, and is most likely to reference himself in the third person at least once.  Chad is the guy that will aggressively flag down a bartender with violent waves and/or yelling, and upon being greeted will realize no one in the group knows what they want and frantically yell at everyone for 3-6 minutes while not letting the bartender leave to help anyone else.  Also, it will be all split checks and at least one person will leave their card.  Forecast:  High probability of high fives.

The Hipster:  Nowadays hipsters are everywhere, almost mainstream even (GASP).  To combat this, the Hipster has essentially evolved into the Hipster 2.0 (or -1.0, I don't know how their scale works).  This is the guest that, whether through actual knowledge or subtle googling before entering the bar, is sure to order at least one spirits/concoction that no reasonable bar outside of the three-password basement of the underground bar in SoHo would have on National Speakeasy Day.  On top of that is the near certain smirk of disapproval that accompanies the "Sorry we don't carry Angel tear-infused Sake aged in 14th century brandy barrels."  After serving them, you can usually walk by the Hipster and overhear a literal jet stream of bullshit spewing from their mouth about their otherworldly experiences with alcohol at other bars in far away lands.  Often a bad tipper, the Hipster is truly exhausting.  I'd say I was worried about losing their business, but who needs those pretentious fucks with their gluten free music and kale cardigans anyway.  Forecast:  Way too cool.

The Faux Wino:  The Faux Wino is an ever-present guest in most bars.  It is often someone who actually knows their shit, or at least some of it, and is usually dissatisfied with whatever your wine selection may be.  They are quick to admit your recommendation is "fine", but even quicker to bring up a wine they have at home or had at another establishment that is far superior.  We have 30 draft beers and a truly impressive selection of liquor and liqueurs.  If you want to get high school hammered on different types of wine, go to an Olive Garden.  At least there you can gorge on all-you-can-eat garlicky hotdog buns.  Forecast: Purple lips and stories of traveling abroad.

The Becky:  In short, Becky is the female equivalent of Chad.  Becky is the girl at the bar that will make sure the bartenders knows that she is out with all of her absolute besties for a girls night, they want some kind of shot ("just make us something we'll like"), and that her friend's should be free because it's her MOTHAFUCKIN BIRTHDAAAAAAAAY!!!! [Insert Woo’s here.]  High heels will come off, exes will be called.  Forecast:  100% chance of Becky getting lost.

Now for every one of these people there are just as many that are nice, entertaining, good tipping, enjoyable human beings, but just like you never really pay attention to the referee until something bad happens, the shitty people usually stick in your memory a little more vividly, and not in a good way.  Regardless, the job is still fun and life is all about perspective.  Remember, the sinking of the Titanic was a miracle to the lobsters in the ship's kitchen.

Fact of the day:  A pregnant goldfish is called a twit.

Shout out to Nate Patrick.