Monthly Archives: January 2018

Crazy Pills

I’m behind the bar, doing my thing, somewhat slow, a couple people at the bar.  I get to chatting with this guy.  Interesting fellow.  I would describe him endearingly as a dick.  The tables turned, he gave me shit.  I screwed up on pouring the wrong beer, and he didn’t let it go, saying, first day?  After much un-funny ribbing, I say to him, you don’t have a lot of insecure friends, do you?  He says, yeah.  We all stab each other in the back.  That’s what everybody does in the business.

I find out he’s a big producer for ESPN.  Traveling to Iowa City to run a Iowa Hawks game, then off to Vegas for another game, then off to blah, blah, blah.  A real jet-setter.

I say, you know, I just can’t really get into sports.  I feel like Will Ferrell in Zoolander when he says about Derek Zoolander’s famous looks, Blue Steel? Ferrari? Le Tigra? They’re the same face!  Doesn’t anybody notice this?!?  I FEEL LIKE I’M TAKING CRAZY PILLS!!!  I mean, it’s guys throwing a ball around.  And they make it into such a BIG DEAL.

He says, comically, Shhh-shhhhh-shhhh.  Keep your voice down.

I have a big house on a golf course because of it.



One Of Those Nights

I get in early on Friday to the restaurant to start setting up.  I had been “called off” the night before because it was expected to be slow.  I see one of the servers that had worked the night before.  Hey, man.  How you doing?  …Good, good.  So…how did last night turn out?

He takes a pause, then says,

It was the kind of night that made me question my life’s choices.

That slow, huh?

He nods, says, yeah.

Later that night, I’m standing behind the bar, trying not to fall asleep standing up.  This cold.  Nobody wants to leave their house, and I don’t blame them.  The same server walks up to the terminal to put in an order.  He prints the receipt, starts walking towards me.  Oh the Heaven’s open up.  A cocktail to make!  I almost start salivating, excited for the prospect to make a drink.  Instead of standing there, making my thumb smell from being up my bum.

He hands me the receipt.  Will it say a Bannerman’s Arsenal, perhaps?  My favorite drink to make.  Or perhaps a Noho Sour, a more complicated drink to make that will take me a whole minute to make?

I look down at the receipt, it says, OPEN DRINK.  And then under that, in NOTES, it says,


Yep.  One of those nights.


Clint Curtis Actor Demo Reel

I’m behind the bar, mid-shift, my manager comes up to me, stands there, surveys the room. You know, I really like this guy. He’s super-reserved, somewhat quiet, but has a dry sense of humor I appreciate.

Hey, man. I’ve got a question for you.

He says, shoot.

I say, have you ever worked on something, like a project, maybe a song. Let’s say for over 20 YEARS. Finally you’re done with it. You’re so excited about it. You send it to your friend, maybe your MANAGER, and then NOTHING. No comment. Not ONE WORD. Like “good job” or a “nice”. NOTHING.

He smiles that smile, says casually, conservatively, oh, your reel? Yeah…good. Had a lot of variance.

On a side note, for the musicians out there, have you ever written a song, recorded it, then your buddy says, let’s hear it. You’re excited, you push play, then 1/3 of the way through, THEY START TALKING. It’s like, shut the fuck up, dude. LISTEN TO THE SONG. I don’t want you to even BREATHE while it’s playing. Not your blah, blah, blah all the way thru the song.

For my followers who receive my stories, please go to to watch my new actor’s reel. And a hearty thank you in advance goes to my mom for the one comment.


Much Ado About Confetti

It’s nearing the end of the night, New Year’s Day, I’m bartending at my hotel gig. Everybody’s safe up in their rooms, lobby’s empty, cheesy music playing over the lobby speakers.

I look over, and the game on tv has finished. The head of the corporation that is hosting the bowl is presenting a trophy to the head coach of the winning team.

“We felt that both teams played great, but TONIGHT, you earned this trophy, Coach. Yard by yard. Inch by INCH.”

The crowd goes wild, the confetti explodes everywhere, flying like multi-colored snowflakes in the air.

Now I believe strongly tonight right now sure I could change my mind in an hour but RIGHT NOW I believe there are only TWO TYPES of people in the World.

Type 1:  Oh, look…they’re flying the blue and red confetti at the end of the game. What a beautiful, celebratory sight, perfectly adding to a joyous night.

Type 2:  Damn…. that’s a lot of confetti. Glad I’m not gonna have to clean that shit up.

Type 2 is only reserved for people that have had to clean up confetti at the end of the night, and after that experience, will never ever be able to appreciate the joyous nature of confetti. Only the pain in the ass part that goes along with the aftermath of confetti falling.

I am a card carrying #2.

And rue the day you were born if carpet is ever involved.