Saturday, August 30, 2008

Channeling Swayze

* Read the taglines on this promo poster for Roadhouse. "Loves like theres no tomorrow" and "The dancing's over. Now it gets dirty" ???? What??? ...Hilarious. Also, just look at Swayze's hair. I'd kill for the feathered Bon Jovi hair...kill.




I felt like I was bartending at the fictional bar "The Double Duece" (after Dalton came in and started cleaning shit up) from the great great movie Roadhouse last night.

My area of the bar, known as the "point", was completely slammed and I'm getting a metaphorical dick in my ass, when surprise surprise, a huge fight breaks out directly in front of where I'm tending. Usually if a fight breaks out and it looks out of control then I'll jog around the bar to assist the bouncers in breaking it up. Last night though, I look up and I see one of our biggest, meanest bouncers actually participating in the fight instead of stopping it. So I did what any sane person would do and jumped the bar, landing directly in the fray. Meanwhile, the now ex-bouncer is stomping some guy in the head and swinging at whomever came near. I tried in desperation to shield the customer(s) from his imminent demise and get him out the front door. Luckily it all got sorted out in a matter of seconds and I hopped back over the bar and kept serving drinks, albeit a little winded from my superman act.

The funny thing is, the fight didn't affect our crowd. I felt like it got even more slammed after that.

After we closed I dropped the classic Dalton (Patrick Swayze) one-liner to the other bartenders and bouncers: "I want you to be nice...until it's time to not be nice." Of course I'm basically the oldest bartender we have so it went completely over everyone's head, but I laughed on the inside at my spot-on pop culture reference.


PS: Thanks to the multiple bloggers who, after making fun of the college bar I work at; coming out, enjoying themselves and tearing up the dance flo.

Thursday, August 28, 2008

University of Richmond Kids Party Like Coked Up Rockstars!

I'm bartending for some sort of University of Richmond function tonight (I think it's a greek thing). Aside from the overly-drunken antics that the U of R kids tend to bring when they go out drinking and the appearence of a few Black AMEX cards, it'll probably be a night just like any other.

When the trust fund kids start mouthing off to us or the new college binge drinkers start vomiting on the bar, I simply need to take a step back and remind myself that only 4 short years ago, that was me. While I certainly didn't have a black AMEX card or any credit card for that matter, I was a rude, low-tipping, loud, American college boozehound. These kids still have that raw exuberance you get when you're out on your own for the first time, and annoying as it can be to a bartender, it's actually quite beautiful compared to the worn out, bitter, I'd rather be elsewhere drinkers, that these kids will become in their later twenties. Damn I miss college...

Also I recently lamented on my lack of success when it comes to U of R girls. Well, I think that may be changing in the very very near future.

Enjoy your labor day weekend as I begin my work week with 4 shifts this weekend and a whole lot of, well... labor. In return I'll think of you on Tuesday when I'm drunk on a beach somewhere in North Carolina. :)

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Some Bars Get A Bad Rap

As per usual, Roissy nailed it on the head with his latest post, "There Is No Such Thing As A Bar Girl".

Some excerpts:

...If it isn’t yet obvious to the “bar girls are low quality” brigade let me spell it out for you: Girls who go to bars are the same as girls you meet anywhere else. They are not an exotic subspecies of womanhood. I understand the impulse of the Loser Mafia to want to disparage girls who are confident enough to go to bars and scoop up tons of male attention, but the facts don’t bear out the comforting belief. That classy, smartly attired girl with her pink Ipod who’s picking through the organic bean sprouts at Whole Foods is the same girl who was at the bar last night hitting up chumps for free drinks....

...Attractive girls who are in happy, committed relationships are often the biggest propagators of the “bars suck” meme, because in their lovestruck haze they have forgotten just how many nights they used to go out to bars. Their opinion is of no use to any man trying to figure out where to meet women...

...Only suckers throw away their time and money chasing the elusive “quality girl” through events, classes, or expensive but socially approved status-whoring hobbies. Bars are free...


I'm tired of people bashing the college bar I work in because of the type of girls who hang out there, or "the crowd" you have to deal with there. The more I work, the more I start to see faces who said they would never visit that bar. I see them dancing, and smiling and not being uptight prigs like sooooooo many Richmonders.

Most of these cows will never leave their ivory towers though. They're too busy inhabiting 2 or 3 bars in the fan on Friday nights, staring at the same guys in light blue button down shirts and khaki shorts. That sounds like fun.

Foreigners Put JGF On Tilt



Spanish Exchange Student: I'll have Vodka.

Me: (immediately sighing) Vodka and what?

SES: Vodka.

Me: Yeah I heard ya, do you want a straight shot of vodka? on the rocks? with cranberry?

SES: Vodka.


(I roll my eyes and pour the guy a straight shot of vodka in a cup.)


SES: Where is ice?

Me: Hmmm (forcing a smile), you want ice in that?

SES: Ice. Yes.


(I take a shaker tin and empty some ice into the cup. The Spaniard still stands at the bar and stares at me. There are 5 other people waiting for me but he refuses to budge.)


Me: Need anything else there bud?

SES: Juice? Ahhhh, Vodka, juice.

Me: You want a mixer?? Any particular juice?

SES: Juice.


(I grab his cup and put OJ in it. He smiles and walks away and I'm barely able to contain my rage as I continue serving customers. Instead of pounding out 10 drinks, I spent 2 minutes trying to decipher what type of drink someone, who I know for a fact will not be tipping me, wants.)



Imagine this scenario played out 25 times a night. It can put me a bit on edge. Of course if I had the choice I'd be in Spain pissing off bartenders with my poor grasp of their language, instead of serving illiterate Spaniards here in Richmond, so I can't blame these people that much.

Monday, August 25, 2008

Condoms, Condoms Everywhere!!!

I've been frequenting a new girls apartment lately. We've gotten pretty comfortable with each other but I've developed two bad habits that she has decided to point out to me. One of the habits I do on purpose and the other I sort of inadvertently commit.

Pre-sex, or during the "introduction of the condom" phase, I usually rip the condom out and toss the wrapper, well, anywhere I want. The floor, the nightstand, under the bed, under a pillow, at her cat... At that moment, I'm definately not thinking about where the wrapper will end up.

Post-sex, or during the "get this defiled piece of plastic off of my junk" phase, I usually hop up after the requisite cuddle, kiss, assorted moans and what not, and go to the bathroom where I drop the condom in the toilet, pee and then flush. I then put the lid and cover down because I'm afraid her cat will drown if I don't cover the water.

What I haven't realized is that the flusher has to be held down for a few extra seconds to enable a complete, cleansing the bowl-type flush. So after I've left her apartment for the past 2-3 times, she has not only found various condom wrappers all over her place, she also gets to witness the remains of multiple condoms floating in her toilet. To her credit, she refers to them as "Jack Treats".

Why am I blogging about this? Other than to gross out my Mom and my various friends and family who read the blog, I'm not sure, but for you Richmond males out there who routinely have sex in Fan district apartments... Always check to see if the condom went down the pipes. Most of these old apartments have really low-flow toilets.

Jack Goes Forth: Having frank discussions on condom etiquette since January 08'

JGF Endorses A Vodka

As a rule I am completely against the proliferation of flavored vodkas. Currently the market is saturated with at least 15 different types of orange vodka. Why???? It's rediculous. When I worked for two liquor distributors my first three years out of school , I repped a total of 47 flavored vodkas. In my humble opinion, a bar needs 5-6 flavors of vodka, MAX. I even thought I had (sarcastically) invented the hot new vodka when I came up with Jack's Bubblegum flavored vodka. I told one of the suppliers of a huge vodka chain about my idea... He didn't find it funny.

In the bar biz you tend to see one of these flavors get hot for awhile (Three Olives Grape or Van Gogh Double Espresso tend to come to mind.) and everyone and their mother will order shot after shot if it.

Well I'm here to say that as of last night, the newest flavored vodka to get HUGE will be, without a doubt in my mind.... Firefly Sweet Tea Vodka.



I had been hearing good things about this stuff and last night I finally got a chance to try it at delux. The girl I was with recommended that I try it with lemonade (to make a sort of modified "Arnold Palmer"), but instead I tried it with Sprite. As I sipped the sweet tea vodka and it's 70 proof deliciousness, I got a text from a buddy that said: IF YOU'RE AT DELUX, MAKE SURE YOU TRY FIREFLY VODKA. The bartender even tried to sell it to us before we had even opened our mouths.

It makes a perfect Ice Pick (Iced Tea and Vodka), just without the iced tea. It's also fantastic as a chilled shot or drank straight on the rocks.

Right now it's only available in 10 states and currently in Richmond it can only be picked up at the Carytown ABC store.

This stuff is gonna blow up. Just wait.

Now if one of my readers will kindly send this post to Firefly, I can start expecting my free case of Vodka.

Sunday, August 24, 2008

Bartender Insider: The Customer Is Not Always Right


The scene: A packed patio bar on a Saturday night. I'm working alongside my bar manager who also doubles as a bartender and we're, for lack of a better term, getting our asses handed to us (some people call it "in the weeds"). We try our hardest to handle the throng of people swamping the bar, deal with an unruly POS system that only cooperates when our hands are completely dry, and keep our service bar updated for the waitstaff. While I wouldn't say tensions are high, we certainly aren't the two happy go-lucky bartenders that we usually are 95 percent of the time.

At one point I pour a mojito for a youngish, Latin American man. This is possibly the 200th mojito I've poured in that evening alone, with nary a complaint. The guy takes a sip of his mojito and shoves it back at me, complaining that "he can't taste the liquor and he wants more rum in it!" Politely as possible I tell him that you aren't supposed to be able to taste a lot of rum in a mojito and just as he begins to complain some more, my bar manager (who by the way, is a girl who is about a half my size) immediately interjects with, " NO! NO! If you want more booze than you can buy an extra shot! It's a mixed drink, you're not supposed to be overwhelmed by the liquor! This is how our Mojitos are made!!!!" The entire bar and the waitstaff are slightly taken a back as they watch this grown man get reamed by the bartender.

The guy then looks at me like a sad puppy dog who just got scolded, and stifling a smile, I shrug and say, "she's my manager dude, so I play by her rules." Then I can hardly control a laugh as I continue taking orders down the line of customers.

The lesson here: When a bar is completely slammed, it's usually better to keep stupid inquiries to yourself, or wait until a bartender has a minute to voice your concerns (in a polite way). When it's crowded, I, like almost every bartender I know, will never mind losing a few bucks and possibly repeat business for the simple reason that we have plenty of other customers to attend to at that moment and plenty of other tips to collect. I'll reiterate though, when a customer politely asks me for something or voices their concern over something, I'll do whatever they need without hesitation and with a smile on my face.... Just don't be a dick.

Saturday, August 23, 2008

Another Reason To Not Work On That Report


I was reading Buttermilk and Molasses today and he found this online tool called "Wordle". He took my site along with a few others and put it into Wordle's random "word cloud" generator. What's Wordle??? To make this easy I just ripped the description of Wordle from his site which he ripped from Wordle:
The clouds give greater prominence to words that appear more frequently in the source text. You can tweak your clouds with different fonts, layouts, and color schemes. The images you create with Wordle are yours to use however you like. You can print them out, or save them to the Wordle gallery to share with your friends.
After looking at my "word cloud" I've realized a few things: I use the word "just" way too much which is probably a sign that I'm a horrendous writer. I use the word "like" too much which probably means I talk like some So-Cal stoner (fuck, I just accidently used it again) and I really enjoy talking about girls, bars, Richmond and college(even though I'm four years removed from that institution...I don't want to grow up!). Lastly, I realized that instead of being an internet geek and wasting 30 minutes fucking around with Wordle on a Saturday morning, I should be outside enjoying the sun.

Friday, August 22, 2008

A Good Day Date



There's a somewhat hidden spot on the James River where there is a huge rock next to an area of river that's at least 8 feet deep. It's perfect for diving which is rare in Richmond along the James, because most of the river is too shallow or too encumbered by jagged, cranium smashing rocks to do any serious jumping. I won't reveal where this mystical place is because I don't want a bunch of local idiots impeding on the area. It's a pretty solid hike to get there so I'm not too concerned about it becoming the landfill that is Belle Isle.

Yesterday I had a day date there, and that, in combination with Mary Angela's Pizza, a few bong hits, sex, and a McFlurry from McDonalds, made for a perfect afternoon. Although later on in the evening I went to Hooters and the combination of Pizza, McFlurry and a Grilled Cheese from Hooters (which was incredible) has left me crapping blood today(At least I hope that's why I'm crapping blood).
I'd recommend taking off from work and hitting the James in the next few weeks. Summer is rapidly ending and schools starting and the days are getting shorter and blah blah blah...Although none of these things will effect me or how I sleep until Noon everyday :)

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Male/Female Relations In The Work Place

Imagine you have two people who work together, a male and a female. The female has been in a relationship the entire time the two co-workers have known each other. The two co-workers have built a flirtatious rapport over long hours working and talking though, but it has never turned into anything more than just flirting. There's clearly been sexual tension between the two, but the male is known around the office for his, ahhh, inability to stay in a relationship or stay with one woman, so the female has never really taken him seriously. Over the course of a few weeks her and her relationship begin to disintegrate and finally it ends with a bang. She is heartbroken. At work she talks about being lonely and horny from the lack of a man. She's in a heavy rebound period.

Is it right for the male co-worker to leave a note on the female's work station telling her to meet him in the walk-in cooler, I mean the office's break room in 5 minutes, to "go over some reports" ? Then continue to meet her in the "break room" at various intervals over the course of a work shift, for ummm, lessons in male/female office relations? Would this be the male preying on the female because of her clearly weakened, heartbroken state?

I don't think so, because there has clearly always been a sexual attraction there, and if she already knew that he was a complete whore... well then none of this should have surprised her.

This, as always, has been a hypothetical question. I mean, this happened to a co-worker...I'm just blogging about his experiences.

Wired Bartender Thoughts From 5:15 AM

- I'm not wired off any "substances", unless you count the two sugar free Redbulls and 2 Diet Pepsi's I had tonight. No, I'm just a happy camper... 3 days sober too!!! It's nice not having to be afraid of sunlight everyonce awhile...


- My boss mentioned to me after work tonight that if I ever wanted to go back to DC that he could probably hook me up with a good bartending gig there, which made me immensely happy. I'm not looking to move back in the near future, but it's nice to know that there's still a door or two open for me. It's always good to see options where you once thought there to be none. Also I've been missing the shit out of DC recently and I don't really know why. I guess I just like a larger city and a more metropolitan area than the places I reside right now: Midlothian VA and Downtown Richmond.


- The bar was pretty crowded tonight, probably because the college kids are back in town. We've also had a really high amount of foreigners (Europeans) in the bar the past few weeks, which dismays me because it's not customary to tip in Europe and 'surprise surprise', they all tip like shit. They also take forever to order because they can't communicate to me exactly what they want, especially over the loud music. So it ends up me being like ,"say that again? Huh? What? You want what?" and finally, exasperated, I shrug my shoulders and move on to the next customer.

I certainly wouldn't call myself hateful or scared of other races or cultures, but the foreigners who frequent my bar may want to start developing a bout of xenophobia and stay away from me because this American was about 5 seconds from slapping one of them if they kept grabbing my fucking arm. Yeah that's JGF.... completely intolerant of other ethnicties who tip shitty and try to poke me to get my attention.

Of course there are always exceptions, like when a really tiny, really cute Asian girl walks up to the bar. She tries communicating what she wants and we end up going back forth for a few seconds because I can't understand her.... finally, doing my best Ziggy Stardust, I put my finger up near her lips and in my deepest voice I say, "Oh baby, just you shut yo mouth." Then, instead of her getting my line and becoming my lil Asian sex slave, my awesome David Bowie drop-in goes completely over her head and I look like a retard. Oh yeah, this actually happened to me tonight. Imagine if she had gotten the joke though?

Monday, August 18, 2008

Weddings and Jack Don't Mix


I attended the wedding of a good friend on Saturday. He looked happy, the bride looked happy, and as sad as it is to see another one bite the dust, I do wish them the absolute best. Judging by the looks on their faces and the ceremony itself, I think they're going to do just fine. I've given him enough shit so this is me giving my approval, not that it matters to him. Now onto the real point of this post:

Weddings just aren't for me...and I'm not just saying that I don't want to get married (I definately don't), I'm also saying that I don't want to attend anymore weddings either.


---I like the fact that most weddings are unmitigated booze and pickup fests because that clearly fits my style. I like hanging out with close friends and drinking for free also...big surprise there. And if the women of this weekends past wedding hadn't already been forewarned of my, ummm, loose morals when it comes to relationships and sex, I would've enjoyed chatting up the 2-3 attractive ones that were in attendance.
on the flipside...

---I don't like having to make fake conversation and get disapproving looks when I explain to older people that I quit my "real" job to bartend fulltime. I don't like the slack-jawed idiots in their twenties, who are already married, smirking at my lifestyle and my refusal to join their ranks. I don't really like mixing with people who I have nothing in common with either (99 percent of the wedding).

Afterwards we went out on Southside to our neighborhood bar. For a day that involved a wedding and an open bar, it was a pretty tame night, disappointing actually. Too much drinking combined with no women and a dead bar scene makes Jack a dull boy (as if you couldn't already tell that from this weak ass blog post.)
I think I'd have more fun at a wedding where I didn't know anybody.

I've decided that the movie Wedding Crashers has ruined me for weddings. It makes everything look so grandiose, so easy, and of course in the movie there are plenty of pretty girls to choose from (which is never the case!) Oh well, maybe the next 20 or so (ill-advised) weddings I get to attend in the next couple of years will change my opinion. I can't wait to find out. Woo... Hoo...

Sunday, August 17, 2008

How To Pick Up College Girls In Richmond

After drunkenly crying on the blog at the end of last week about my life, I've decided to start this week on a decidedly more cheerful note. Also the college kids just moved back into town...

As a full-time bartender, a longtime Richmonder, and an unapologetic, emphatically single young man, I feel that I can dispense real world advice when it comes to picking up college girls in Richmond Virginia. I still remember the feeling that I got at 7 AM, walking out of Stuart Circle apartments in 11th grade after my first fling with a VCU girl, and even today, the campus (or near campus) walk of shame is still one of those little victories that always tends to put things into perspective for me.


Here are some tips (in no real order):

- Don't Waste Your Time On University of Richmond Girls. Now I'm not saying don't hook up with a U of R girl. I'm simply saying that to maximize your chances you have to lean more towards VCU (Virginia Commonwealth University). This is for multiple reasons, but mainly it is because U of R is a real college campus, secluded by trees and devoid of any(good) bars. VCU on the other hand is right in the middle of the city, surrounded by bars, and it lends itself to more girls living in off-campus housing. In addition to there being more VCU girls than U of R girls, VCU also tends to attract less middle of the road, white, boring girls and more exotic, artsy, off the wall type girls. This is significant because freaky girls tend to be just that....freaky.

- Be The Bad Boy. This advice can really be used on any girl, but it's never been more true than with college girls in Richmond. A lot of the girls who come to VCU are from smaller towns, or from the fringes of Richmond. Now all of a sudden they're in what they consider a "big" city, when in reality it's just a few tall buildings and more ethnicities than they're used to. You need to come off as the "hip, I'm down with the streets" tough guy. My advice is to get some tattoos, get a cool part time job (bartender, bike messenger, and graffiti artist all come to mind), stop shaving, and you're in. Always say you're an artist too. This knocks em dead down around VCU. If they ask to see your work, draw something crazy on a cocktail napkin, hand it to her and say your work tends to be on more of the abstract expressionism side, with a bit of realism to give it a gritty, more restrained type of vibe, similar to a Manet or a Basquiat.

Do you know what all that meant? Good, neither did she.

- Start Wearing a Backpack. This is self-explanatory, but I'll explain it anyways. College chicks totally dig older guys, but they also get a little creeped out when the dude in the suit is hitting on them. Rock a backpack with an Obama sticker, even if you have a real job where a backpack is frowned upon (like lawyer, doctor, airline pilot.) Oh and the Obama sticker?? C'mon? No self-respecting VCU girl is gonna vote for that old white guy and his old balls.

- Learn The Names Trani, Wilder, Kaine, and Warner. I'm not sure who the fuck these people are, but college chicks go to college for an education, and if you pretend like you know the local political scene while you're ripping bowl hits on her balcony...well my friend, you're totally getting laid. Lucky for me I work in loud bars where the only thing I can dispense is alcohol (in the place of knowledge). I heard that Wilder guy is some sort of important Richmond something or other though. I think he's Asian if that helps.

- Start Smoking Marijuana. I personally don't indulge in the sticky icky very often. It's just not my drug of choice. But you want to know who does smoke??? 95% of the VCU girls I've ever hooked up with, that's who. You don't neccessarily have to smoke all the time, but at least learn the lingo and how not to look like an idiot when you're fiddling with her gravity bong.

-Be Creative. Again this goes back to the "artist" thing. But one thing I've learned, and not only from VCU chicks, is that college girls love the artsy, creative types. College girls are not 35 and they're not looking for a house or security. They want to go on cheap dates to art exhibit openings and drink red wine while discussing local Richmond bands. I've used the "poor bartender/writer" line so much that I'm actually starting to believe that I'm a poor bartender...

- Know All Of The "Hip" Bars and Spots Around Town. If it's a girl that's new to Richmond then she doesn't know that everybody and their mother goes to Sticky Rice. To her it's just some eclectic little sushi joint that you "discovered" when you were writing your last book on Richmond's tattoo culture. After Sticky Rice you can WOW her with this cool little corner bar you just found called Buddys. Sure, she'll find out later on (after you've slept with her) that Buddys has been around for 178 years and that anyone who has ever graduated from UVA and moved to Richmond, goes there once a week, but by that point, who cares?

In conclusion, we can't all still be in college, but we can sure as hell try and act like we are. Plus I'm not sure if you've noticed but other than the US Female Gymnastics team (Oh how I love some Shawn Johnson*), most girls tend to really hit peak hotness somewhere right around college. Men, you may be 27, or 30, or 38 right now, but that doesn't mean you have to sleep with women your own age. Sorry ladies.

*Okay so the Shawn Johnson thing comes off as a little bit pedophiltastic. It's not like I would touch her or anything...at least not without her consent.

Thursday, August 14, 2008

A Drunken Thought

I think a lot about my life and my future. I look at my grandfather and how he was defending our country in a foreign land at my age, and I think how meaningless, how trivial my life is.

I know I'm too smart to be bartending full-time, but on the flipside, I'm also too smart to lock myself into a job and a life that I'll hate.

I could write this stupid book, I could teach English in South Korea, I could get a job doing sales for Kinkos, I could build up the capital and open a bar, I could keep bartending, I could go back to school, I could fuck until an STD kills me, I could join the Army... I could do anything and everything my little heart desires.

I just don't know what the hell I want to do. The swan song of a lot of 24 year olds I suppose.....

I may be enjoying the ride, but I can't get out of my head long enough to really soak everything in. Something has to give, I just don't know when that's going to happen. I'll keep slinging booze, writing, making friends and chasing tail I guess.

I always want more more more, and I end up taking for granted how great life is, and how I never go wanting or needing for anything. Life could be sooooo much worse.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Bear Grylls v. Jack Goes Forth



On the rare night that I have off and decide to actually stay in the house and do nothing, I usually write, read and watch TV. Currently my favorite TV show is Man Vs. Wild, starring the manbeast Bear Grylls (Yes this is a real person). The premise of the show is that they drop Bear, a film crew and a medic into the most inhospitable places on earth. Bear then shows the viewers how to survive by finding water, eating whatever he can find, and braving the harsh conditions. In honor of the fact that I'm staying in and watching his latest episode tonight (Discovery Channel, 10 PM, Wed.), I thought I would compare some of Bear Grylls survival feats with some of my own. Bear's actions in bold.


-In lieu of water, Bear Grylls drinks his own urine from the skin of a rattlesnake that he recently killed. Jack Goes Forth, after a late night "foray" with some girl, wakes up to find himself a in huge wetspot, not unlike the huge wetspots that he produced when he was 8 years old. After much deliberation JGF comes to find out that the girl had actually pissed the bed, then she pushed him into the spot and promptly left the scene. Seriously, my boxers, which were inexplicably on, happened to be dry. Now I'm no lawyer, but c'mon... There's no way I pissed that bed! Tough Guy Winner: Bear

-Bear jumps into a pit of deadly quicksand almost up to his neck in an effort to show viewers techniques on how to "swim" their way out of the gunk. JGF takes a bath filled with oatmeal in an effort to stave off itching from a horrible case of poison ivy. The bath ends up making the poison ivy worse and Jack then decides to finally hit Patient First, and just like every other time, he gets prescribed steroids to get rid of the rash. Tough Guy Winner: Bear (by a hair)


-Bear sleeps inside the gutted stomach of a camel to keep warm during a freezing night in the desert. Jack moves to the couch in a girls apartment because she either snores, has the "jimmy" legs, or refuses to let him sleep without trying to intertwine bodies in a practice some people laughingly refer to as "cuddling" ... ugh. Tough Guy Winner: Jack (Bear slept in a camel once, I sleep on a couch or on a floor once every two weeks.)


Bear cuts a bees nest in half for honey, meanwhile his face gets attacked by African bees and ends up swelling to Elephant Man-sized proportions. JGF had really bad acne in 9th grade. Tough Guy Winner: Jack (Having bad acne at the beginning of high school is much worse than getting attacked by African killer bees. Trust me.)


Bear stumbles across 6 beautiful virgins, their 4 bulky sheepherder brothers, and a shot gun toting father in the Sahara desert. Bear kills the brothers and father with nothing but the hoove of a camel he just fornicated with and a handful of sand. He then proceeds to make love to all 6 virgins at the same time even though he had recently satisfied himself with the aforementioned camel. (This wasn't on Man V. Wild, but I think I read about it somewhere). JGF loses his virginity in 10th grade(after his confidence crippling bout of acne in 9th grade of course). Tough Guy Winner: Bear (barely)



*Do yourself a favor and watch this show. I'm not gay for the most part, but if I was, Bear would probably be my type of guy.... wait... well... okay who am I kidding? Bear Grylls puts the sex in survival.

Bartender Insider: When The Tip Gods Smile


I had some weird/funny tips tonight which I'll talk about down below, but before that I thought I'd have a brief discussion on tips.

Making good money while bartending or serving people can basically be determined by two numbers: Sales volume and/or tip percentage. There are many variables within these two categories such as check average, the bar's clientele, nights of the week, hours worked vs. money earned, etc, but I feel that sales volume and tip percentage are the best ways to determine if a bartender is walking with a lot or a little money at the end of the night. My breakdown:

Sale Volume: This one is easy to define. When the bar has a high sales night, the bartenders will almost always make decent to really good money. Even if the patrons tip like shit, the sheer number of drinks going over the bar and the amount of money coming into the bar will ensure more tips. People may be tipping poorly, but the bar staff is working nonstop and those ten percent tips will keep adding up and adding up and adding up. This is basically how a bartender makes money at a "college" bar or any joint where drinks are cheap. You "churn em and burn em" so to speak.

Tip Percentage: This is best factored in at higher end bars where the check average is higher, but it can also be applied to your regular run of the mill bar, where a Bud Light still costs $2.50 and you can actually buy a shot for less than 7 dollars. There are a lot of little things that factor into a single nights tip percentage such as customer service, repeat or regular customers, bartenders giving away free drinks in exchange for higher tips, whether or not there is a party in the bar, etc. Generally when bartenders are pulling 18-20 % tips out of the nights sales, they're doing pretty well, if not incredibly well. When that number starts to creep up to 25-30% on a regular basis (and not just one isolated night), then the bar owner may want to keep a closer eye on his bar because he's probably getting shafted.

The bartenders who are really making bank are the ones who work at high dollar, high volume bars. Then of course the ones who work at Ruth Chris and Mortons will also make bank due to the rediculously high check averages and the swanky clientele. Making even 10 percent tips on a night that a bar rang 5,000 dollars equals out to 500 dollars in tips. But I digress... Here are some funny tips and situations I saw tonight at the college bar:


- A girl came in tonight and she has the reputation as a huge tipper. So of course when I see her walk through the door I grab the other bartender who knows her and we make a quick game plan to flatter her ass off because the bar was slow and we wanted to maximize every opportunity and every tip that we could. I semi-jokingly asked if she wanted to make out with me after the bar shut down (yeah, my "game" can be a little direct sometimes). Tip left: 55 dollars on a 25 dollar tab. Cha-ching! This is good for the bartenders, but too many 200 percent tips and the bar owner will probably be showing his bartenders the door.


- Some guy I had never met was running up a tab on disgusting shit like Blue Motorcycles (don't even get me started on these..) and shots of Jager. By the way he was acting, I predicted a zero percent tip. He had amateur hour written all over him. So eventually one of his buddies gets into a small altercation with another patron and he and his buddy are asked to leave because of it. I see it happen and I immediately go to run his tab because I know he's about to get booted. His tab comes to 90 dollars and he was basically being manhandled out the door when I handed him the credit slips and a pen. I didn't even expect to get a slip back, but to my extreme surprise the guy calmed down and started signing the receipt. He made a big show of handing it to me and then he promptly got kicked the fuck out. Tip Left: 97 dollars on a 90 dollar tab. Whoa! Where the hell did that come from? I guess he was really drunk or I just completely read him wrong. My guess is he is probably in an alley pissing himself right now and that his large tip was a fluke. Either way, money is money and this random guy, once again, proved that I shouldn't judge every book by its cover.


-And since I'm always crushing African Americans for their poor tipping habits I thought this deserved mention. Two, not bad looking black girls in their late twenties came up to the bar, they ordered two shots of Patron Tequila and two Grey Goose Vodka and Pineapples. I've seen this order waaaayyyyy too many times, and honestly, I didn't think about what the tip would be because I'm so used to it being nothing on orders similar to this one. The total for this drink order was 34 dollars. One of the girls handed me a 50 and when I went to return her 16 dollars, she just smiled and told me to keep it. I'll admit that I get shafted all the time by every race and every walk of life and sometimes I unfairly judge people because of it, but in this instance (like many others) I was wrong. Infact I was already considering going "back to black" for a spell (hey white guys can go black too!) and this girl left a good taste in my mouth (figuratively of course) for when I do decide to catch another bout of jungle fever.

Monday, August 11, 2008

Jack Remains Unaffected By Conflict In Georgia





I've been keeping a close eye on the conflict in South Ossetia and Georgia recently, perhaps because I've been spending a lot of time with a girl who hails from Belarus and she has introduced me to a few Russians and Georgians. I don't necessarily feel that strongly about the conflict, but after reading this post over at Roissy's blog today, I have a few thoughts:


1. I'm starting to think that Russian women, or women from countries that were once part of the Soviet Union may not be very trustworthy. Roissy had this to say about it:

"Having dated a number of Russian women and become intimately familiar with their naturally scheming ways, I can speak with a degree of expertise on geopolitical matters that involve Russia as a central player.
First, understand Mother Russia. They’re a country of thugs. Smart, conniving thugs always looking for an edge, but thugs nonetheless. That is why they easily succumb to the siren song of communism (controls their worst instincts), and that is why their women (1) are so fatalistic and (2) respond so well to male dominance and abusive relationships."


2. I attended the Watermelon Festival* yesterday with the girl from Belarus, and I watched her shit-test me with her relentless flirting, then I watched her shift gears and be incredibly warm and loving me with me in front of anyone who was around. Then I ended up hearing later on that evening that she had slept with one of my buddies awhile back (before I knew her) and I started to get the feeling that she is basically a female version of me...tall, flirtatious, unethical, doing whatever it takes to get what she wants.... and frankly, it scares the shit out of me. Of course I refused to even blink at her flirting, or hearing about any of her past encounters, but the fact that I'm now blogging about it clearly means that it affected me.


3. After really looking at the situation closer though, I'm not sure that Roissy's views on Russian women can be applied in this instance. I attribute her flirting as a way to counter-balance my flirting, which she has witnessed first hand (on multiple occasions) when I bartend. I also attribute hearing about her possibly "unsavory" past to the fact that we both live in Richmond Virginia, where it's almost impossible to find a girl or a guy who hasn't slept with someone you know or have met in the past. In a bigger city you generally wouldn't hear much about a girls past lovers, but in Richmond, I'm lucky if I meet a girl who hasn't been railed by at least 3 people I know. Sadly this doesn't even scare me away from a girl anymore.


In conclusion, I don't even know why I'm thinking about this so much. Russia could invade the US with missiles from outerspace and I could be put into a Gulag labor camp, and it still wouldn't alter my insatiable lust for Eastern European women.

* The Watermelon festival sucked. 100,000 people crammed into 7 blocks. Strollers and dogs clogged the streets and people stood around gawking at nothing. The only way I survived was ducking into 4 different bars and a party along Cary St for many many drinks.

Sunday, August 10, 2008

Bartender Loves Sex... Alert Channel 6!

I slept with a girl recently, who, after the first bout of intercourse, mentioned that she had only come over and slept with me because she knew that I was "a sure thing." She admitted that she was charmed by me, but that she was under no illusions that we would ever be anything more than fuck buddies. She wanted to get laid and she came to the guy who wasn't going to catch feelings afterwards and wasn't going to question why we didn't speak for a week or two after the first time.

What's funny is the fact that I sleep with many down to earth, attractive, nice, funny girls who want a relationship at some point, but they also want to have sex...immediately. Raw, dirty, faces and chests smashed together, animal sex.

People criticize a man (or a woman) who sleeps with many partners. They call that person a slut, a whore, a disgusting man-pig.

Did it ever occur to the naysayers, that maybe there are just people who really enjoy sex? People who crave the release, the adrenaline, the emotions, the jealousy, the heart ache? They want more than the same old, vanilla, year in, year out partner. There are people who want excitement, and they've already found out from prior relationships that maybe they need to experiment more to find what they're really after.

And don't give me that BS about how "life is more than just sex..." Life is sex and the things that come along with it.

Maybe I'm starting to sound like a hippie with this free love, sex sex sex talk. I don't care though. Sex is medicinal to me. Before you criticize my viewpoint here, go have sex with someone. Have the type of sex where you wake up hungover and start kissing the person next to you without brushing your teeth, without putting on deodorant, without insecurities. Hump and don't think about what face you're making or what noises are coming out of you. Let your sweat run down their chest and then lay there for 5 minutes on top of them, panting, after you explode...

Then if you can come back and criticize me... Well... You're probably a robot.

Thursday, August 7, 2008

Bartender Turns Lemons Into Lemonade

Last night was a slow one at the bar. Two bartenders were on and we decided to go down to one in an effort to increase the other bartenders tip money (by making the split a bit more even). Since I was the opening bartender and had already put more hours in, I got cut around 9 PM.

Getting cut early is sort of a double edged sword. I get out early and I'll still get to reap the benefits of tips the other bartender makes after I'm gone, so that's pretty cool. On the flipside, I get out early in the middle of downtown with nothing but pent-up energy. "Making" money turns into "spending" money.

So of course I get some drinks and begin texting all the names in my harem, I mean my phonebook. If I'm not going to work, I might as well do something productive (which in this instance was sex).

I won't get into too much detail, but I will repeat this conversation that happened in my car last night:


Her: "Yeah, they're real"

Me: "Umm, Cool"

Her: "Yeah I just got em pierced too"

Me: "I see that"

Her: "The agency pays me more now because of my tits."


Me: "The Agency?..... The C.I.A?" (I ask in mock suspense)

Her: "Whats the C.I.A?"

Me: *Sighing



It's difficult to have a meaningful conversation with 19 year olds.

Why I Blog



It's 3 AM and after writing my last post about how I wasn't going to water anything down or write for other people anymore, I began flipping through my usual blogs and catching up on them when I came across a short post by Robert Anasi found here. First off, Robert Anasi isn't some guy who blogs about getting laid, or last nights drunkenness. He's an accomplished writer whose book "TheGloves" I've read 10 times, and whose book the The Gloves, motivates me to get off my complacent ass everytime I open it. I won't get into it here, but if you like Gonzo journalism, then you would like Anasi.

His lastest blog post discusses Jack Kerouac, Kerouac's work "Visions Of Cody" and how he still seems to get so little respect for his writing, even 40 years after his death. Anasi defends Kerouac and in reading his post, I'm reminded why I quit my boring job, why I started blogging, and what I'm trying to find at this point in my life. An excerpt from the post:


"It's a mishmash of experiments in style - tape transcripts, automatic writing, fantasies, multiple narrators, false narrators, you name it. You can smell stale benzedrine sweat and pot smoke when you read it. That said, it also has some of the most beautiful passages and scenes in American literature. There are pages where he so perfectly captures a mood, an immediacy - high in a subway station at 3 a.m., a touch football game on the street, a film shoot in San Francisco - that he recreates what life is like at its most intense moments."

I really like writing. I like the feeling I get when I write something that I think is good. I need to drop the formulas, drop the pretenses, and most of all just drop worrying about tomorrow. 6 months ago my writing was a lot worse than it is now (I know it still sucks now), but it had a lot more heart, and that's all that matters.

I'm heading to the couch to catch up on a few of the Kerouac novels I own.... I've become too comfortable in life once again, and that's the last thing I need right now...

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

No More Writing For RVA Blogs

I had after work drinks with a somewhat prominent member of the Richmond writing community tonight (if someone can actually be called "prominent" within the RVA writing community? I hear that Kollatz character is the only one who can truthfully call himself that) and we discussed the Richmond blogging scene. He laughingly mentioned that I have a "popular blog" according to RVA Blogs. Which technically speaking, he's right. I get more hits from RVAblogs.com than almost all of the 330 blogs that are aggregated there. What's funny though is that I maybe get 25 readers a day from RVA blogs, which amounts to about 6 percent of my daily readership. What's even more funny is the fact that I frequently try and think of catchy titles and Richmond based BS for my posts in an effort to make my blog a popular one on RVAblogs. People see certain words in a blog post title and they click on it. So far its worked, but I don't really feel that great about it anymore because I've started writing for other people and trying to increase my blogs popularity, which was never my original intent. Even if it was, you would think I could find a better way to increase traffic than focusing on a site that doesn't send me many readers.

The only reason my blog was entertaining in the first place is because I was writing to me and not the general public. Now I either water shit down or try and force absurdity out when I don't feel like it, which makes the work suffer and more importantly, I don't get the same satisfaction out of blogging when I start to write for other people. I worry about what someone will think about a post and I churn out crap when I don't have anything good to say. Writing becomes a chore when I think about how people will react to it.

I'll admit that RVA Blogs is a cool site and a cool idea. I've seen this concept work well in DC and it's starting to work well here, but I'm not in this for a popularity contest (unless it gets me laid, which RVA Blogs has thus far failed to do), so you won't be seeing the fluffy "make Richmond a better place, this restaurant sucks, cute baby, wife, pothole on Libbie, blah blah blah" anymore from this guy.

The ironic part is that the title alone to this post will ensure that people click on it.

I would consider de-aggregating myself from RVABlogs, but then I might miss one of Jocelyn Testes-Harders stories (who is now apparently the only Asian living in Goochland county) and that would suck, cause that's a funny redneck, black, Asian, crazy bitch right there. Plus I'm not sure I could live if I didn't have at least one blog post in the RVA popular posts column at all times.

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Life Is Happening Now

I was a wildly ambitious, albeit impulsive, young man. I graduated college early and I was all set to go full steam ahead and start climbing the ladder. I didn't care to take a meaningless job or travel or do anything I saw some of my peers doing. I wanted to take over. I had plans for law school, for middle management, for sales awards... I had gotten everything I'd tried for up until that point, so who would be able to stop me in the real world???

Well, no one actually. My own stupidity and impatience were my undoing.

Now I'm on the path of thousands of other people in their mid twenties, directionless, unsettled, confused. The only difference between myself and most of the rest is that I chose to take this path, and I'm enjoying every second of it.

People keep saying that maturity and age will help me sort this mess out, I'll stop whoring around and start trying to build my nut. Then I'll begin to do what I've been told is what I'm supposed to do.

I agree that I may eventually party less, and that the "flings" may be less frequent, but as for the rest of this so-called adulthood? Im in no rush and I have a feeling it's going to be a loooonnnngggg time before I'm ready to get serious.

I can't do things the way everyone else does... Not anymore.

Monday, August 4, 2008

Lies I Tell Girls


- Well yeah, I mean, I bartend full-time to make ends meet, but I actually quit the real world because I'm a writer and I needed time to sit down and really put down my thoughts and my ideas. I'm exploring life without the harness of a 9 to 5 and it's a beautiful thing. (Something along these lines has been said to at least 35 women and it's not a complete fabrication, although I'm not sure how much I believe it.)

- I played basketball in college as a walk on, just for a year though. The rigors of practice and study halls and curfews were taking away from my whole "college" experience. (Said to multiple former college athletes)

- I've done the whole relationship thing a few times, but right now I'm just so busy with work and life that I'm not sure how good of a boyfriend I would actually be, although I feel like I've matured so much in the past year or two. I'm certainly ready to try again and see if I can be that great boyfriend, I'm just waiting for the right girl I guess (This one tends to excuse my outrageousness and stunted emotional growth to pretty much anyone who will listen. Like almost anything, it's not about the words, it's all about the delivery.)
- This never happens to me.... Maybe I drank too much this evening.


- I swear the number isn't that high, regardless of what you've heard.


- No I'm not a "sex fiend". (I said this the other night as I was defending myself from an unmitigated, playful attack from a group of girls who frequent one of my bars.)

- I graduated with a degree in Philosophy from NYU. (For some reason this just came out the other night. I think it was because I had watched the movie Roadhouse earlier that day for the 20th time, and in the movie Patrick Swayze's character, the Zen bouncer Dalton, also graduated from NYU with a degree in Philosophy. And lets face it, Dalton is a raging badass.)

- Yeah I remember you. From... ummm... That night, at that bar.

- My blog persona is just a character, just a platform for me to write. I'm actually very different from Jack Goes Forth.

Day Off Bartender Thoughts From 5 PM

-- Well the "Fling Is A Fling Is A Fling" girl has now officially become just that; A fling. She claims that my expletive-laced tirade over a botched drug deal that was her fault, showed my true colors (I won't explain the situation in depth, but no I'm not a drug dealer and no it's not what you think). I, of course, was unwilling to apologize because I was right, and just like that... We're done. Thank god I have Russian tennis beauties to console me. Seriously though, it's like a size queen sleeping with a black guy... Once you go blonde, tall, gorgeous and Eastern European, you never go back.


-- I got interviewed by a nice lady who is writing a book about tattoos and scars today. Apparently someone who reads my blog had referred her to me. We met at a Starbucks and she videotaped me and took pictures of my forearm tat and the facial scar I received in Brooklyn a year and a half ago. I then told the stories behind both. She says she's blogging it all first and then doing the book. It's cool that things like this pop up because of my blog. It goes to show that my blog is good for more than just cock-blocking me and upsetting my friends.

Once I get the tattoo/scar blog link I'll probably post it on here, although I'm hesitant to do so because then the proverbial cat is really out of the bag. People can always figure out what bar I'm at and come see me, but giving access to direct pictures of me makes me wonder.


-- Sometimes I'll get a simple drink order and for whatever reason I blank. This doesn't happen often (maybe once a month), but when it does I'm put in a funny situation. Do I ask the customer what's in the drink, "uhhh, sorry, I forgot what a Cape Cod is", or do I take a chance and just mix up what I think it is?

Unless it's a drink that I've completely never heard of, I take a stab in the dark and mix the drink. Then I serve it to the customer with such aplomb that they will usually doubt themselves if the drink seems off, but they won't doubt me.

This happened when I got an order for a Madras the other day. I know what a Madras is but we were slammed and I was in the zone. Why the fuck can't the customer just be like, "give me a Vodka, Cranberry and OJ?" Well I blanked but luckily I made a Vodka, cranberry, pineapple with a splash of OJ, so it didn't register with them. Plus I served it with such speed and confidence that they probably thought, "Wait, is this a Madras? Am I going crazy?" and "Man that guy really has some great hair, I wonder if it's just like that when he wakes up?."

-Yes I changed my blog template. The old one sort of reminded me of vomit and regardless of how puke-inducing my writing is, I will not have a page that looks like vomit.


Sunday, August 3, 2008

Caffeinated Bartending For Beginners


Friday night, I made bank.


Saturday night, money money money.


And Sunday???? Sunday was supposed to be the big dog, the piece de resistance. There was a huge concert down on 18th Street and my bar is located 50 yards from where the stage was set up. We were going to get slammed with emo rock kids, all clamoring for an ice cold beer. Fights were to going to erupt over Pete Wentz and I'd be in the middle of it collecting 20 dollar bills. I was gonna walk out with at least 500 dollars on the day and that almost seemed like a conservative estimate. In my mind I had already paid my cell phone bill, got a new tattoo and put a down payment on a flat screen with what I was going to make on Sunday. Unfortunately....

Things didn't quite pan out like I planned. The concert, whose headliners were the bands Good Charlotte and Boys Like Girls, turned out to be very poorly attended. Most of the people who did attend happened to be 12, so that didn't help either. In fact it was probably a good thing I was stuck in the bar because there were way to many hot 16 year olds prancing around who could've easily passed for 24 (I need to start hiring a security guy to follow me around and check IDs).

Anyways, around 10 AM this morning I forced myself out of bed (I didn't get out of work til 2:30 AM the night before) and got ready to get my ass handed to me all day today, or so I thought. I showered, got dressed and hit Starbucks for the juice. Then I get there and see that Monster Energy Drinks have sponsored us for the day. I decide to have a few Monsters to really get into my groove. So by 2 PM I'm caffeinated out of my fucking mind with no one to sling drinks to. I'm manic, I can't sit still. I pace around the bar, growling, yelling at no one in particular, "who wants a fucking drink?!!!?" Luckily two of the other bartenders decided to get jacked up too, so no one really noticed my extreme excitement for work.

The crazy rush of drinkers we expected never came, and we closed up shop around 9 PM. I'm disappointed, but not surprised. You learn to expect the unexpected when it comes to bar tending and restaurants.

Now it's 3 AM (Monday) and I'm like a roller coaster of emotions from the crazy influx of caffeine and the mix of Bud Light I threw in after we got off early tonight. It's like I hear a good song and I'm high as a helicopter, but then the next minute my head's on the desk as I try and write this. I knew there was a reason I'm trying to kick caffeine altogether. I'd probably be better off just snorting Adderall from now on...

Saturday, August 2, 2008

Lesbians Tip Well

*Something tells me that this is a staged photoshoot and that these women are not actually lesbians...


I've been a bartender for maybe 15 lesbians (and about 1000 gay men) in the past five months, and I've come to a hard and fast conclusion, tipping well is ingrained in the lesbian culture.

Last night I had four homosexual women (It was obvious. There were no lipstick lesbians in this group) sitting directly in front of me for the better part of the night. We didn't say much to each other due to the fact that I was slammed with drink orders for about 5 hours straight. Everytime they did order, they seemed hostile and a bit rude, although they kept running their tab up with shots of Patron and drinks made with higher end vodka (Three Olives Cherry). I figured they automatically didn't like me because I'm male, and I'm somewhat of a womanizer (this can be obvious at times too...I think). Usually I can win over anybody, but due to the crowd and the fact that I was working "Point" (the most crowded area of the bar), I just didn't have the time.

When it came time to pay out, they asked for their check which had been building on one credit card they had given me for the four of them. I expected them to want to split it all up on 3-4 four cards, because it was packed in the bar and that would have made my life a lot more difficult, so of course that's what usually happens. Instead, the alpha lesbo of the group and the one whose card I had, told me to run her card for everything. I asked if she wanted to see the itemized bill first and she shook her head, "no". I ran the check which came to 78$ and handed her the slips and a pen.

She called me over a minute later and said, "I want you to look at this check." I looked at the slip and she had added 70$ as the tip, making it a 148$ check.

She then went on to say, "You did a good job tonight and we appreciate the hospitality. Now do me a favor and go ring the shit out of that tip bell over there."

I shook her hand and then I did infact ring the hell out of the tip bell behind the bar. I then went back to the group and exhanged pleasantries, while ignoring other customers (this isn't Ruth Chris, it's a college bar.)

I learn every shift not to let appearances or preconceived notions effect how I work, even though I'm usually right about them. In this instance I was pleasantly surprised though.

In conclusion: From what I've seen it's clear that the homosexual community has more expendable income, this isn't groundbreaking news. It's also clear that they like to drink heavy. Now, I'm frequently finding out that they also know how to treat a bartender. Hmmmm, it makes me think, should I be looking for a job at a gay bar? I wouldn't mind working with my shirt off and judging by last Wednesday night, making out with dudes isn't a problem either...



I kid, I kid.

Friday, August 1, 2008

It's Friday, The Weekend Is Over

It's Friday morning and my week is just beginning. Due to my new gig, I have a strange schedule for a few weeks. I've had off most Wednesdays and Thursdays, then I usually work Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Tuesday nights. I got to live carefree and party with no consequences for the past two nights and now it's your turn. While I dust off my church key and my wine opener, you are sitting at a desk, staring at the clock, eagerly awaiting the minute you can strip off your work gear and shed the burdens and problems of the week. I on the other hand am staring at three weekend shifts lasting anywhere from 9 to 14 hours a piece. You won't hear me complain though, and I don't ask to be put back in the 9 to 5 harness. Luckily I don't dread going to work these days. There was a time (every single job I've ever had before now), when I would rather jump in front of the Orange Line Metro than have to spend another second in an office. This sentiment has not changed.

I miss the steady paycheck sometimes, but that's about all I miss from my past life.

Enjoy your weekend, and remember, good tippers get laid more and are generally much more appealing to the eye (true story).