'Are You A Licensed Bartender?'

Friday and Saturday were by far the craziest two days of this new york thing.

Yes, I went to a pool party. Yes, I drank some really weird drinks. Yes, I stumbled home two hours later feeling tipsy and at the same time ready to run a marathon. It was a really weird night.


It all began a week ago when the store manager up and quit (or got fired). It was an all to sudden departure and everyone at the store was shocked. Of all the managers she is the last one you imagined leaving. She's this uber tough, tiny, new yorker who plays smart ass and sweet very well. In all honesty the dynamic of the store is attributed to her lax approach to managing us.


As soon as we new she was leaving, an office party (at work and outside of work) was devised. Two parties. One at work and one at a bar near work. On friday the break room was littere with ballons and food,and a bucn of old and current employees not working that night were in there to meet up for the after work party. The bar get together was intended mainly for those of us who'd worked with her for the past year or so, sans most of the new hires. Because our schedule is made a week in advance some of us were scheduled to work that afternoon (me and about three other of the 'older' employees) and I couldn't find anyone to swift shifts.


When I came into work, I walked into a sea of familiar faces crowding the info desk, waiting to head to the bar. They were all dressed up and ready to have fun. It was a happy love fest of old employees and current ones wishing her off a truly good manager. Immediately, I regretted not trying harder to find someone to swift schedules. The closing group that night were all the newbies, except Brit and 'Cool Manager' who were all hoping to meet up later at the bar with everyone else.

And though I consider myself quite a loner with social skills of a wallflower I wanted to be apart of the group. I wanted to go and have a good time with all of these people I have grown to like. I didn't want to be stuck at work with a bunch of new people. So after everyone headed to the bar Brit, 'Cool Manager' and I made plans to get the store as clean as possible so that the three of us could possibly make it to the bar before the fun ended.


Along with the grou hangout at the bar an old co-worker, Nick (and Josh's Bff), was throwing a house party. This party was planned weeks in advance and Josh invited me to come like he does to all his parties. Most of the people from the bar were going to meet up at Nicks, to drink the rest of the night away and I felt the urge to go to both.


I must reiterate that for some reason I really wanted to do something social. And for the first time in awhile I sort of told anxiety to shut up and let me enjoy the night. Closing with a majority of new people made me feel all kinds of disconnected and I just wanted to have drink with a friend and celebrate the last of our normalcy before the new manager comes, more people leave, and I depart for vacation and hopefully soon, a new job.



We got out of work around midnight but by then everyone at the bar were either at Nick's or home. 'Cool Manager' agreed to drive those of us who wanted to go to the party there. But he was only going to stay for a half hour and would drive anyone back to the train station if needed. I wish I could say that as a father of three, a husband to a decent lady and a manager of the store coming to a drunken party with coworkers was weird. But 'Cool Manager' literally stopped by to say hey, surveyed the party atmosphere and asked everyone he drove there if they wanted a ride home. He was oddly....appropriate the whole night.



Nick lives in a huge house. Scratch that. Nicks parents are rich and live in a huge house. There was a pool and a patio and a lounge/game room. Most of the party took place in the kitchen, where the table and counter was littered with alcohol. When I stepped in, Josh and Evan (both very drunk at this point) started yelling 'holy shit. holy shit. am I dreaming. beckett actually came to our party'.



Once I escaped there drunken hugs, I started chatting with some of my co-workers and opened a beer. I've never had a beer before. This one tasted like seltzer water, except for the fact that seltzer water doesn't make me dizzy.



As I was slowing sipping my beer, watching a bunch of familiar and unfamiliar faces stumble about, a guy wearing a ridiculous hat started engaging people to take jello shots. Because I was standing in the general vicinity he handed me and 'Cool Manager' one. 'Cool Manager' discarded his while I, not knowing what to do, kept mine. All of a sudden five people clinked their jello shots in the air and chugged them.



I on the other hand, being me, thought jello was for eating. So i painfully looked around for a spoon. Why would I want to chug jello? I freaking love jello, especially shiny red jello. It's to be consumed slowly not chugged, I don't care if there is alcohol in it. While everyone was hooting after the consumption of their jello shots, I decided to start eating mine sans spoon. Top Hat spots me and seems very upset by this. 'What are you doing' he starts. Need I remind you he is wearing a Top Hat, his eyes are barely open and he's so red in the face I want to giggle. 'eating my jello'. 'didn't we click glasses' 'yes' 'didn't we agree to down them together in the group' 'yes' 'then what are you doing still with yours' 'i wanted to eat it'.



He pauses, then looks around to the ONLY area of the room where there are no people. 'She's not following the rules' he yells in the direction where no one is standing, 'someone tell her to finish her jello shot'. Out of nowhere a dazed and confused/drunk Evan starts yelling at Top Hat 'leave her alone man. Don't touch her. She's cool. She's cool. Don't touch her man. She's cool. She's cool'. I turned and Evan is wearing a straw beach hat, and has found his way to us. I slink away from Top Hat, and put my jello shot down. 'Sorry about that' Evan says 'he's very serious about the jello shots'. My own drunken hero.



Soon after Matt, the writer who isn't much of a good writer, made a drink for me. By this point I am completely tipsy. I cannot stop laughing, my body feels weightless and the words are just tumbling from my mouth. Despite being tipsy, I am still very conscious of my thoughts so much that I am analyzing aspects of the night like the narrator for one of those nature documentaries.

I am describing everything as if they are aspects of a story I am writing. Except that I am saying it out loud from time to time. At one point I went to the fridge to grab ice and Matt comes up next to me. I make a point of asking him about all the weird drinks I see in the fridge. I want him to describe them to me so that I can describe them back. 'Whats this' 'It's alcohol in a syringe' 'alcohol in a syringe? why' 'because people drink it' 'from the syringe' 'yes.' I pause and then say ' there is, like, alcohol in it to be squeezed out of syringe? interesting'. He laughed and then offered to make me an apple martini.

When he showed up with the glass in his hand, I could hear my mothers voice say 'don't take drinks from anyone'. That whole evening The Artist (who was there with his wife) kept an eye on me. Though I only drank about three things, he carefully sniffed, examined, and eyed them first before allowing me to take a sip. He told me later that he just didn't want me to end up like this Natalie, a cafe server who passed out several drinks earlier on the floor. Remind me to thank him

After The Artist examined the martini, he said it was good enough to drink but it didn't stop me from questioning Matt about it's content. 'can i ask you a question before i drink this' 'yes' 'are you a licensed bartender' i remember saying. He stared at me blankly and said 'no, but i know good drinks' Who asks a person if they are a bartender. Oh, I forgot me.

The martini thing was good. But it tasted too much like juice and I didn't want to keep drinking it as if it were. 'Cool Manager' told the room that he was leaving, and the 'The Artist' and his wife soon followed. His wife was the DD, so he wanted to know if I needed a ride back home. I had enough sense to say 'yes' and around 2 am they dropped me off safely near my house.

It was a fun night. I mean I woke up feeling like crap but for the most part it was fun. The next couple of months are going to be weird. I can feel this huge shift invading my comfort zone, which is a good and sad thing. Good in the sense, that a new job and more money would be awesome, but sad because this weekend felt like a goodbye party in some many ways.

I'm headed home in week, for a 10 day vacation. I'm getting my passport, and this week I have to send out query letters for the four production schemes I am applying to. When I get back to New York I must crack done on getting a job, even if that means contacting those damn temp agencies. I have a lot to do, and a lot more to think about. But for once, being an average 24 year old whose only worries are the bartending credentials of friends was relaxing. And fun.

I've heard stories about the events from the bar; drunken managers, angry drunken employees, and someone got kicked out of the bar from throwing up every where. There is an episode of 30 rock where the cast and crew of the faux snl like show attend Kenneth's house party. The scene cuts from everyone in the elevator saying how lame Kenneth's party is going to be to the next morning where everyone is in Jacks office looking like death. Jack goes on to apologize for the events that transpired at the party, to a dead pan room of embarrassed and scarred cast members. It remains my favorite episode of the series and that is how I suppose the next few days will be. We will be a bunch of embarrassed employees trying to relive and forget some aspects of this weekend.

Good times, I say. Good Times