Hey, you know what's weird? Being in the neighborhood bar all by yourself. And I'm not talking about when the bar just opened, the bartender is in the corner playing video games, and you're the first person to show up. What I'm talking about is, it's 7:30 in the morning, the staff has left, the sun is shining and the only noise is coming from the TV that the owner left on for you, which is blaring a story about Danika Patrick only being 100 pounds for the 15th time in a row on ESPN News. You are in the bar and you are alone. Dude, it's really weird.
I found out that being in a bar all by yourself on a Sunday morning is weird this past Sunday morning, when I was in Tai's all by myself, feeling weird.
No, I didn't pass out under the pool table unnoticed and get locked in. And no, no one suggested that since I'm there all the time anyway, I might as well just stay there. No, I was there all alone because I was painting the bathrooms. And I was painting the bathrooms because, well, because they really needed painted.
The owner had patched the walls some three months ago, but never got around to painting them. And, you know, I'm always taken care of in that bar. My friend the bartender has been known on occasion to pay for my drinks, and even when he doesn't, I don't have to worry about having cash on me, because the owner is always cool with me paying my tab at some point in the future (the reason this works, for those of you who are thinking about walking out on a tab at Tai's, is that he knows I will, in fact, come back and pay it). So I got to thinking about that, and the half dozen people who were quickly tossed out for their inappropriate handling of me by the wonderfully attentive staff, and I felt like I should give something back for all their generosity, so I decided to offer to paint the bar.
Aw, who am I kidding? The walls looked like seven kinds of shit and it was driving me up a fucking wall every time I had to pee. I had to paint them. I begged to paint them. For free. Anything. I would have done anything to get those walls painted.
Luckily, the owner was sympathetic to my plight*, and agreed that indeed I should paint the walls, I should paint them whenever I wanted, and I should paint them whatever color I wanted. So after much consideration, I painted the walls a very dark blue right after close on Saturday. After close to give them the maximum time to dry before they opened again, and dark blue because it seemed like one of the more difficult colors to write people's phone numbers/leave kiss marks with lipstick/draw cartoon penises on. And they look really good. The owner and the bartender and others all stopped by during the day just to check out my handiwork, and all called to say how nice of a job I did.
But man is it an eerie feeling being locked in a bar by yourself for 6 hours on a Sunday morning.
*wanted his walls painted inexpensively
6 comments:
You're painting all the walls in the new house.
Except for the downstairs bathroom, which is pink.
I want whoever claims that room to have to suffer through it.
Goodness gracious Fish, I'm cooking for you guys, I'm painting for you guys...I'm not the PGS DenMILF, I'm the Fish's house DenMILF!
That's fine. I'll save you a couch :)
i just wanted to comment that i am changing my comment name to hot heather because there already is a heather and i need to be different... also that i can't believe you didn't drink every ounce of alcohol in that damn place!!! i SOOO would have just for fun... you didn't even explore... disappointed am i
I was looking forward to a re-do of the men's room as well. I even met up with the Tai's crew to see the newly finished walls. To my dissapointment, the men's room was still in the same shape that it's looked for three years. Sigh.
That's because I told Blake he needs to patch the walls first. When that wall above the door gets patched and the ceiling gets scraped, the men's room will also be painted. Stay tuned.
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