Monthly Archives: April 2014

She Likes Lemons

Girl comes up, says, can I get a Pomegranate martini, and a water? Could I get a lemon in the water? Sure, I say. No, she says, make that two. Wait…three. I say, how bout I give you a lemon, and a knife? She says, great!

And I don’t think she realized I was kidding.

From my heart to yours,

Clint Curtis. Bartender.

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Low Expectations

I’m in the car with my seven-year-old son, when you have kids, shit accumulates in the car.  Wrappers, food, plastic bowls, action figures, etcetera.  My son is rummaging around in the back seat, he exclaims, hey!  Two pieces of gum!  I say, oh yeah?

He says, man.  This is like, the best part of my day.

From my heart to yours,

Clint Curtis.  Bartender.

Broke Down

I’m cleaning up the bar, I find a pack of Pall Malls, half-full, underneath a table. I go to my fellow bartender, he smokes, I say, found these. Want ’em? He says, sure. I’ll take ‘em.

A bit of back story, I quit smoking cigs almost six years ago, and recently, I’ve been thinking about smoking. I even had a dream about it. It was a good dream, naturally.

End of night, my fellow bartender is gone, I’m doing the register, oh shit. He left the pack of Pall Malls. Fucking great. And guess what?  There’s a damn green lighter right next to it.

Do you have any idea how difficult it was to quit smoking? It was my favorite hobby. Pack a day. I did the patch for the first month when I quit, then chewed the gum. AND I GOT ADDICTED TO THAT.

I open the pack of Pall Malls, slide one out, look around, nope, nobody’s around, I grab the lighter, put the cigarette to my lips, flick the lighter, and…

From my heart to yours,

Clint Curtis. Bartender.

Binge

Customer comes in tonight, mentions my blog. She says, I read like seventeen in a row. I like to binge on it.

That’s going to be the word for 2014. Binge. Don’t they have those things, most popular words for a year? Binge is going to be the word.

Netflix is the cause of this word being popular. And food, of course. Oh my God I totally binged on the new season of House of Cards.

If you want to go all out, stay up twenty hours straight, watch The Killing, three seasons straight thru (great show, btw). Make sure you have a couple boxes of Ho-Ho’s, Doritos, your favorite junk food snacks.

Then you can say, I totally binged while bingeing.

Binge.

That’s the word.

From my heart to yours,

Clint Curtis. Bartender.

Being John Malkovich

End of night, girl asks to run her tab. She’s cute, used to date a friend of mine. Blond, dark eye make-up, leather jacket. I get her card, run it, place it in front of her, say, thanks for coming in tonight. Great to see you. She says, yeah.

Great job being John Malkovich.

From my heart to yours,

Clint Curtis. Bartender.

An Inevitable Occurrence

I’m cleaning dishes, this chick, cool girl, Is sitting in front of me, I say, so…what’s new?  She says, what?  I say, what’s new?  What’s something new in your life? She sits there, doesn’t say anything for a moment, then says, no Clint. I don’t want to end up in your blog.

You know what, hun?

Ya just did.

From my heart to yours,

Clint Curtis. Bartender.

Bobby Driscoll

My buddy came up with a new drink. It’s called a Bobby Driscoll. Decent for a non-drinker. Soda water, couple splashes of Grenadine. He says, tastes like a vanilla soda. I would somewhat concur.

I wiki’d Bobby Driscoll. Interesting story. Childhood actor from the forties/fifties. Did a bunch of Disney movies. In his twenties, went to prison for drugs, got out, joined Warhol’s gang at the Factory, then died penniless in an alley in NYC. Two kids found him, the police couldn’t identify him, buried him in an unmarked grave. His mother didn’t even know he was dead until a year later.

So now, he has a drink named after him. A Bobby Driscoll. Kind of like a Shirley Temple, but less sweet.

From my heart to yours,

Clint Curtis. Bartender.