What Does Full Mean

There are times when the small patch of paradise known as the Bleecker Street bar gets so packed that a fart has a hard time coming up for air. Last night was one of those nights. After the snoozefest known as the NCAA Final Four ended, we got super slammed. 

Since I was at the door and not behind the bar, I can't say if the $$$ reflected that it was slammed, but in terms of bodies the front of the bar was jammed. Now, here's the thing about the bar. I would describe it in three basic parts. One is the front of the bar, the dart area and the pool room. While a bottleneck does tend to occur at times at the area between the front room and the dart area, the real logjam usually happens in the front of the bar near the door. That's exactly how it was tonight. People just congregated at the front door giving the illusion to those passing by that we were indeed super full though the dart area and the pool room were quite empty. 

Now being the responsible doorman/bouncer that I am (yes folks, no modesty here), I took it upon myself (as Head of Security I can do that) to close the door. Packing the front like a jumbo sized can of sardines by continuing to let people in is definitely negligence. At some point making money has to take a backseat to public safety. People who are drinking can't see that past the Jägerbomb they are consuming to realize that. It takes a party-pooper like me to deal with it. So I just stood in front of the door and didn't let anyone in. Most people either decided to go somewhere else, wait patiently or annoy the living hell out of me. 

Those who chose to annoy me could go jump of a cliff. Jackwipes. Its amazing how the feeling of entitlement some people have really cloud their views of reality. If I tell you that I am currently over capacity and that letting anyone else in would be a fire hazard and irresponsible why does that give you license to say its ok for me to let you in since friends of yours are inside. To continue to plead your case and having your friend come out and help you plead your case since you were Pre-Law for one semester in your sophomore year in college. 

Here's another one, four girls are outside and start counting the people who leave. Surprising that some of these chicks could count past four, what makes them think that I am waiting for exactly four people to leave just to immediately let them in. That defeats the purpose of regulating the door. No?

One of my "favorites" (well, not really) is the question: well how long will it take. Um, sorry to be crass, do you ask the person sitting on the bowl that you want to occupy how long are they going to take to take a crap? It comes out when it comes out. The same applies to crowds in bars. Some people leave as little individual turds and some leave as long groups stuck together. Get my drift? Apparently those on line didn't. There is no timeframe. People leave when they are ready. Ok, here's the line of the night. 

So I tell a group of young ladies that I can't let them in because the bar is full. One of them says to her friend: What does "full" mean. Does anyone pay attention in school anymore? Shit, my kids could tell me what full meant when they were kindergarten. Here's how I defined the word from the Sisco Dictionary of Bouncers for Morons: 

Full means that you'll have wait out here until I say you can come in. The safety of many is worth more than you wanting to come in and have a drink with your friends. The bar is full and the door is closed.

Well, after a few eye rolls in my direction, the chicks had no choice to wait. Sometimes I wish I had a velvet rope and a yardstick while at the front door. What a bunch of self entitled morons some of the future generation are. 

Like my recently passed friend Dan Corvino would say: OH MARRÓN. Yes Dan, you'd have shook your head in disbelief and laughed tremendously at that chick for that one while admiring her bone structure. You'd have had to know Dan Corvino to get that reference.  

Well folks, that marks the end to another Saturday night in the big city. Night night.

FH

Sometimes Real Life Can't Be Invented

Sometimes people don't believe some of the bar stories I tell them. Here's one for example. Last Sunday night was rather slow and Chuck and I were being entertained by Clarence, Dawn and a quartet that seemed to love my work playlist. The two women of the group were from Norway while one of the men may have been French, the other dude didn't have a discernible accent. So since the bar was empty, I didn't mind their dancing to the music. Rather pedestrian. No? Ok, let's fast forward a few pints of Bud and a few shots of Jaegermeister.

By now only Clarence is with Chuck and I, a random dude at the bar and the mad dancers. Bump around the bar they go while "dancing". Luckily the bar was empty or else they'd have bumped into anyone and anything in sight. As it was they were already one foot out the door, the next act in the play would seal their fate. 

As I walk to the back to use the bathroom, one of the ladies was with the non accented guy. They looked as if they were simply talking amongst themselves. As I am finishing in the bathroom, I hear a series of loud "THUDS". As if a bowling ball was dropped on the floor. As I run out to see what happened, the dude was later out flat on his guy while the chick was straddling him while flexing. When I asked them what they were doing, the chick said: We're wrestling!!! Not in my bar they weren't. LOL.

I pulled them both up and told them to finish they drinks and get out. I told the dude that she was ready for him and to take her home, to which he nodded in approval. After all she was kind of feisty.You think that it would end there? NO!!! There was one more act.

A few minutes later, the Fabulous Moolah of the group runs to the back of the bar with the non accented dude in tow. As per my experience, when that happens only one thing is going to happen. To use the jargon of the Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Contest, the bathroom was a witness to some Norwegian "reversal of fortune". Guess Moolah couldn't take the wrestling bumps after all.

Luckily for her and us, she was able to make the bowl and after making her offering to Oppkast: The Porcelain God of Vomiting from Norweigan mythology (Well, not really. It's the Norweigan word for vomiting. I thought it was witty, LOL) the group quietly put their jackets on and slinked on out the door. 

Ah, another riveting Sunday in the bar business. 

FH

The Man and His Dog on the Train

There really is something special in the relationship between a dog and its master. I got on the train as usual to go to work and to my right opposite of me was this older man sitting with a small dog on his lap. I observed how the man seemed worried about something and spoke to his dog. His companion sat there looking up at its master listening to every word intently. Imagine trying to get one of your kids to do that without fidgeting. LOL. 

The man pulled out a bag of Doritos Spicy and Sweet chips and both him and the dog ate from the same bag. Occasionally the dog would hear something that would catch his attention and momentarily lose focus in his master and the bag of chips only to return to the delicious treat. 

On and on the man spoke to the dog and the dog just returned to looking and listening. After a few minutes the dog got off of his lap and sat down next to him, deciding to get a better look at its surroundings before laying down. It made me realize that I really miss my dog. His attentiveness, especially when I had something to eat that Buddy would have love to have me share with him. :) 

It's amazing how we as humans can treat each other like shit but an "animal" like a dog treats up with the utmost and unconditional of love and affection. We can all stand to take notes and learn from these devoted creatures and in turn give them all we can as they do with us. 

FH

Pay It Forward

An interesting thing happened as I got off my train stop today. I was approached by a man who asked me what part of the Bronx he was in and how he would go about going to a different part that he needed to go to. I directed him and he seemed to be satisfied with my answer. That I wasn't giving him false information. 

We go on to talk about how he's recently out of jail and asked of I've heard of a particular gang/organization and tells me the name of the leader. Now for reasons of my own I won't go into details but I acknowledged that I had heard of what he asked me about and introduced himself to me as said person. To make a long story short, he was asking me to help him out so he could visit his daughters who were living in another state. Now, normally I'm not one to "fall" for a story but my gut instinct told me to listen to him. He was not disrespectful in the least. On the contrary he was quite humble. He never exerted himself as being anything that he wasn't. He wasn't apologetic or bragging for and about who he was. He was simply just asking a family man (as himself) for a favor from the heart. Never once did he ask for any specific monetary amounts. 

Ok, like I said earlier, I'm not one to fall for a story but sometimes you need to believe in and help people. I was going to take a short cab ride from the train home. Instead I decided to give him what I would have spent on the cab and decided to wait for the bus. Why? Honestly, something in him made me want to help him. Maybe it was his tone of sincerity when talking about his children. Who knows, maybe one day (and I hope that I don't) I'll be in a similar situation asking for the same kind of help. Anything can happen. 

The only thing I asked of him was to pay it forward when he was in a position to do so. He agreed to do so as he shook my hand. Now maybe I was taken for a rube. Maybe not. Hell, I spend what I gave him on a shot and tip at a bar for something that overtime with constant drinking can kill me. So why not help someone who I felt was in need. What do you think.

FH

PS: I decided to do an Internet search on the person who he said he was as though the pictures I found were of someone obviously younger (circa mid 1990's), they looked like him. Now my curiosity is peaked. 

The Woman With The Blue Tips

She silently enters the train at 125th Street wearing a while Hello Kitty t-shirt and a pair of black spandex tights that look spray painted on her shapely lower body. What actually stands out more than her round derrière is that the lower part of her long hair is colored various shades of blue. From midnight blue near the middle, to a bright lapis lazuli near the bottom with some turquoise thrown in at various intervals for variety. The shades of blue seem to play well against the chocolate color of her skin. Very well indeed.

FH

Silence is Deafening

I've said many said that many times that silence is golden, but in the week that my beloved dog Buddy has been gone the silence is downright deafening. Where life changed when we got him. Life has changed once again when we lost him. Man I miss him so much.

Rest in Peace Buddy 6/2001-2/23/2012

We often take routines for granted. They are something we do on a daily basis and when we need to shake things up a bit we like alter said routines for a sense of change. But what happens when our routines are changed due to a loss of someone or something important. How do we deal with what some would call mundane tasks.

It's something that I am having a hard time dealing with since we decided to put our dog Buddy to sleep. Buddy was a part of our lives for almost 11 years and part of our kids' entire lives. Something as simple as sitting in the living room could be punctuated with the jingle of the tags of his collar as he moved around the apartment, to his chasing the cats around to his placing his head on my lap as I sat in my chair. I mean waking up is weird since Buddy slept on my side of the bed and I always had to be wary about stepping on him. So you can imagine how eerily quiet the apartment is without the big lug making his usual racket.

I know that things like losing a dog or a cat to a disease or illness is part of the experience of having an animal companion. But no matter how much you plan for the inevitable, we're creatures of habit and are used to having our faithful and unconditional companions by our sides day in and day out. Even though Brigette and I had the discussion a few days earlier, I guess I just never thought that I would have to be the one to make the final decision on Buddy so soon.

I know he is at rest. Part of me is relieved for him and grateful that he is at rest since I know that at least for the last week Buddy was not himself. The symptoms of anemia that he was exhibiting made him a shell of his former energetic self. Had that been the only issue, but there were many underlying issues such as many lumps that seemed to be growing over his whole body including the massive lump that was lanced in December which refilled and became even bigger than the original in a matter of a week early this month. Add that to the swollen right paw, the edema of the chest that he developed and the very blood filled urine that he expelled while at the vet dispelled any doubts that I may have been feeling in my decision to give my Buddy some peace from the undoubted pain that he was silently suffering. I know some people have said and will say that I made the right decision. And I know that in the long run that I have made the right decision. But its hard to feel that way after spending his final moments with him, watching him close his eyes and take his final breaths and seeing him lay peacefully. It's an image that I'll have burned in my mind for the rest of my life.

I can only speak for myself but I find that things for me will never be the same. I know that at sometime down the road something obvious will remind me of Buddy. There will be a sound, a scent, an action or just a quiet moment that will remind me of my departed companion. It hurts, I smile, I frown, I laugh and I cry.

A friend posted a picture with a poem on my Facebook page that read as such:

He is your friend, your partner
your defender, he is your dog.
You are his life, his love,
his leader. He will be yours,
faithful and true, to the
last beat of his heart.
You owe it to him to be
worthy of such devotion.
- Author Unknown

Buddy, you were that and more to me. You weren't just the family pet. You were like one of my kids. The oldest of my kids. You tried my patience like the kids do and made my blood boil but the love and happiness you gave me, the devotion of standing by the window as I approached the front gate and the wagging of the tail no matter the time of day when I came through the door is something that I will always cherish and miss from here on out. I mean I could have been gone for 5 minutes and you acted as if I was gone for days with the homecoming reception I got from you. It was awesome!!!!

I hope that I was able to give you all that you gave to me and then some. I hope that I was able to give you a life benefiting that of such a loving companion as you were to me. Thank you for always being a loyal companion to Nene and Gaby. Always showing patience when dealing with first infants, then toddlers and now children. Thank you for keeping momma on her toes, always letting her know who the boss was when I was around and showing her the proper love when I wasn't. I celebrate you with a sad, empty and painful heart and soul knowing that one day, wherever I end up after my days on this world you'll be waiting for me as wagging your tail. Until then, I will try to remember the good times we had. By the way, please don't swipe too many sandwiches off the counter. We wouldn't want you to get into anymore trouble than you already get yourself in.

Love you with all of my heart. Thank you for everything.