I. Jack. Or Jake. I don’t exactly know for sure, ’cause everybody used to call the cat one or the other. One night old Paul’d be in and see the skinny cat hangin’ out in his usual spot at the end of the counter. He’d holler, “How you been, Jake?” And cat would nod andContinue reading “Jack, or was it Jake?”
Tag Archives: bartender
transitory optimism
This isn’t my game anymore I was told to go home I kick the ball around once in a while still But I stopped playing the game They don’t want me in Unless I follow the rules And make a line for the pros But it’s not my game I’m no pro I don’t followContinue reading “transitory optimism”
of shams and stiff shakes
the bartender last night was a sham his tie was crooked and I didn’t trust his beard his Manhattan tasted like broken ice tonight is a gift on a Saturday night the barmaid slinks and glides her shake is hard and her mix is stiff so am I
I cringe at my cocktail
beyond bowtie and bluster the rust of your shallow crust blows through very smoothly done but I’d rather the thing done right stirred not shaken you misshapen fuck
criticism from the bar stool
where did this guy learn to pour I mean, I don’t think myself one to kick up dust or raise a fuss over a quarter ounce of tequila but really three quarters of a shot glass is like watching three quarters of a movie I’ll enjoy what I get but I will always feel likeContinue reading “criticism from the bar stool”
