It’s Times like this that I don’t miss the Bar Drama

The bar scene is never a boring one for me. Sure there are times it can be but for the most part I can get a good rush from fucking with people there.
I hadn’t been to my dive bar in a while because I had told everyone that I was on lock down due to the mother in law is visiting for the summer. This is my excuse for staying out of the bar for the summer, because I hate drinking when it’s hot outside.
A week ago I stopped in for an hour and one of my drinking girlfriends told me that another regular had told the other regulars that I was getting a divorced and that I was getting together with Mr Sam.

Not true, but a rumor made up by a chick (who said she’s my friend) who wants to tarnish my reputation with Charlie’s crew so that she can be my replacement. Don’t misunderstand, I’m NOT a party favor like she is. I’m one of the guys so to speak. She wants the connections that I have due to being Charlie’s (ex) girlfriend.
She’s going about it the wrong way. I didn’t fuck my way into Charlie’s crew. That’s what she’s been doing. She’s fucked 5 different members of the crew. Those dudes weren’t even allowed to speak to me let alone fuck me. I’m not saying she can’t fuck the dudes but trying to sleep your way to the top and tarnishing my rep is something else.

So she started spreading these rumors about me. And when I walked in to the bar last night she immediately started in with gossip. She focused mostly on Mr. Sam & my bestie playing a game of pool. She mentioned that Mr. Sam has put on weight as if a woman is cooking for him. She picked on my bestie because she repeated what had been said about Mr. Sam putting on weight.

She went on & on about how suspicious it looked that Mr. Sam was ignoring me but hanging with my bestie. Funny but Mr. Sam & I had hung out all day. Day drinking, picnic in the park and then back to see my bestie. But that venomous bitch has to have something to talk about and since I’m in the way of her climb I’m the focus.
I spoon fed her all kinds of crap. But because the alcohol started to hit me, I became unruly. The bartender had given me a free drink because he was eavesdropping on our conversation. Poor me, Mr. Sam dropped me for my bestie. Not true but I played it up. I started punching her in the leg. I was slamming my free shot glass on the countertop making noise. Charlie’s crew watched the show intently. The bartender took my glass away. I watched Mr. Sam and my bestie sit together away from me on the other side of the bar. Mr. Sam asks me for some money, I yell at him about asking me for money. People look at us. My bestie introduced me to a dude (another regular I’m familiar with but don’t know formerly). He says something and I call him a motherfucker. Feeling the alcohol really starting to affect me I become louder. My bestie says to the dude “she’s mean, I mean really mean and don’t get too close.” He replies “I know, I’ve seen her before and I know she’s mean.” I slam my hand on the bar “motherfucker you don’t know me.”

Mr. Sam tries to tell me he’s leaving but I yell at him. My bestie goes to sit with the other dude and tells me “Sam couldn’t deal with your shit.” Which I found funny, because we had already planned it. I finish up my drink and tell the backstabbing chick that I’m leaving. She walks me out to my car, asking if I’m ok to drive home. Insisting I allow her to drive me home, no thank you. I’m not going home, I’m going to Mr. Sam’s apartment.

Y…because I love that bar

I find myself talking more and more about the dive bar that Charlie & I used to hang out together at. Now Mr. Sam & I hang out there together, it’s still the same ol’ dirty seedy looking dive bar.

I enjoy the fucked up people who go in there who drink their troubles away. I enjoy that “cheers” atmosphere when I walk through the door.

However summer soon approaches and that means that I wont be there as much as I go there during the winter. Summer time is when I stay home, hanging out in the backyard, working in my garden and riding the motorcycle.

I’ve seen bartenders come & go and return again. Some times it’s a long time before you see the same people, other times it’s the same people everyday. Just depends on what’s going on in their lives.

Most of the time my bar friends are willing to lend a helping hand, especially when it comes to my photography. I needed something for the letter “Y” and this is what I came up with, thanks to the little missy in the photo.

y because i love this bar, atozchallenge

 

Toast before doing a shot

Who makes toasts anymore?!

People in my bar do. Sometimes. It just really depends on the occasion and who bought the shot. The person who bought the round of shots is the one who offers the toast.

When I’m in my bar I have noticed that I tend to get a lot of shots. I often feel bad because I never have enough money to reciprocate the action. I do keep a mental record of those who have shown me this type of generosity for the times that I do have extra cash to share. There are times when I will go without the alcohol so that I can repay the favors in shots.

I do love my shots. The alcohol hits fast and hard and the yukky taste doesn’t last for long. I no longer do shots of Tequila, Jose, Patron or any other type. Don’t do shots of Lord Calvart, Rumplemintz, Goldschlager, Yukon jack. Those are just a few that I quit.

I can drink a shot of RumChata with Frangelico, Dr Macgillicuddys, Bird Dog Strawberry whiskey. I limit my shots of Jägermeister because bad things happen when I drink too much of that.

taost before a shot. atozchallenge

I can’t get away from them. 

It was on Fat Tuesday, I was at my home turf bar I’ll refer to as “The Railway Station.” I had decided I was giving up my home bar for the 40 days of Lent even though I’m no longer a practicing Catholic. However I miss the social drinking and visiting with friends well they’re not really friends they’re my drinking buddies. But I do have one or two girlfriends that I do like to drink with. My close friend always goes out on Tuesday’s so I decided to go to her bar and have a drink. I found that it’s not the same feeling that I need, want or looking for nothing like what I get from the Railway Station. Maybe it’s because I know everybody there but then I didn’t know people at my friends bar. The drinks are more expensive, the music is different, the people are different. I was thinking I’m not really having any fun here. I guess because I like watching people and  I didn’t find any interesting enough to watch and I was missing Mr. Sam because Mr. Sam and I do have fun together. 

During the evening a few of the patrons from the Railway Station walked in to the bar I tried avoiding them but one of the old guys came and talked to me filled me in on all the gossip that I have been missing out on for the last two weeks. He talked about going out on a date with one of the bar girls and acquaintance of mine. He asked if she told me about the date, I said no I hadn’t heard from her in two weeks since Fat Tuesday. I told Mr. Sam at a different time that it bothered me that some of these people say we’re friends but you know deep down inside you’re not friends you’re just drinking buddies.  Folks who meet in a bar and share the love of alcohol. 

Do I miss drinking? Sometimes I miss the feeling that the alcohol gives me. Other times I don’t think about it all. Most of the time I like sitting and watching the people drink their alcohol.

I finally left when one of the bartenders from the Railway Station walked in. He’s always been a bit of a dick to me. I’m not sure why, but I dislike his bartender manners. He can make a delicious coconut mule, lemon drop shot and other shots. I totally ignored him like he does me on Facebook. It was 9pm and I was yawning, had nursed my drink for the last two hours. I was totally bored. I left. Home by 10:30pm. Wishing I was still in the in-crowd, wishing I could be drinking where I felt comfortable. I can’t wait until Easter gets here.

Interior – The Dive Bar

When you walk inside you can’t help but to notice the untreated hard wood floors. The wood-paneled walls, the pool tables and the bathroom doors with huge wooden handles that look like they’re from the Viking period.

Continuing to walking you see the most beautiful tables. The tables are cuts made from trees. Odd shaped, bark still on the sides and covered in a thick shellac. A few slot machines are there for those who enjoy to toss their money away.

interior, barlife,

At the bar there is an overload of visual stimuli. There are stickers plastered all over the glass door that leads inside the walk-in cooler. There is a beer barrel sticking out of the wall with a tap on it for the beer of the week. There is random candy boxes, potato chips and other snacks placed on the bar. The top of the bar is covered with bottles and bottles of every sort of alcohol.

There is a tiny cooler that keeps cold single bottles of wine, such as Barefoot. There are single bottles of Henry’s Hard Soda, Mike’s Hard varieties. And different flavored beer like the blueberry stuff, which is totally gross.

interior, barlife,

The Interior of this dive bar has always been interesting, dark and reminded me of something out of the 70’s that hasn’t caught up to present day. A person can’t sit there and not find something to stare at. Whether its one of the big screen TV’s or if it’s any of the bizarre, unique and quirky items hanging somewhere in that bar.

The Drunken Mr Black [The Bar The Booze and Me]

Everyone was having a rough time, most were on the verge of blacking out. When I got there Mr. Black was already there, he was with Sheila. He was all over her, when she was able to she escaped out the door.

That left me. He staggered over and sat down next to me. Slurring his words he kept on about going home with me. That no one would care, he kept trying to touch my breast. guys in there don’t think my tits are real. He would lean-to me whispering “lemme see them, can I touch them?”

No.

He held on to my hands. He kissed the tops of them. “God, your hands smell so good.”

He leans in closer and takes a deep breath. “Oh YES! You smell amazing! Hey due….come here and smell her!”

Dude looked at me and said “Mr. Black I’ll take your word for it.”The Bar The Booze and Me

Mr. Black is the type of man who doesn’t like to take no for an answer. He also doesn’t like not knowing who is in his bar. Some of the members of the PHG walked in and we all sat down together. But the peace didn’t last long, Mr. Black  approached the table and demanded to know who some of the guys were. I didn’t confront Mr. Black at first. But I had to do something when he started screaming at one of the guys who was just sitting there.

“What are you looking at? Who the fuck are you anyway? You keep looking at me and I’ll kick your fucking ass.”

When he lunged at one of the guys I jumped up “Mr. Black. Mr. Black! They’re with me. This is….and this is….They are with me!”

With fire in his eyes Mr. Black stared at me, “Why are you sticking up for these nobodies? You know if Charlie was here, you wouldn’t even be sitting there with them. You know that if Charlie was here he would have knocked them punk ass bitches out! Tell me he wouldn’t. I dare you! Tell me!”

I lowered my head. He was right. If Charlie was there, I would have never even approached the table. I would have been sitting with Charlie. Mr. Black tried to get himself in control but I could see the booze taking its toll. He had the white foam around his mouth, he’s eyes couldn’t focus and his rage was frightening. He sat down at the bar for a few minutes, he came back over. His arms embraced me from behind, he whispers in my ear more about whatever. I knew he was drunk and would not hold that against him (yet).

One of the PHG members had mentioned “I was waiting for you to give that look of concern or fear so I could step, but you never gave it.”

No. I didn’t. But in the back of my mind I thought when in a bar like this when men get riled up in to a frenzy could be very dangerous for any woman. I knew it was time to leave as soon as I found opportunity. I didn’t want Mr. black to see me leave because I didn’t want him following me.

Mr Black had proven in the past to be very strong & determined. Astro had stood up to him earlier and got knocked to the ground. Astro also know everything would be taken care if anything got too out of hand. Mr Black wanted me to return to his home for the evening. Saying things like Charlie won’t mind. Charlie is a good guy, my friend. I would laugh “Mr Black I know all about you and Charlie. I’m not leaving with you.”

“Why do you treat me like that? What do you know about me?”

“I know….Charlie…told me….”

“What a bastard! Why would he tell you that?”

I felt an evil grin appear on my face.

Mr Black staggered to the bathroom, Astro pointed to the back door, and I took the cue. Walked fast, didn’t look back.

A week later I went back. Astro approached me shortly after I sat down. “Mr Black sends his apologizes and wants to pay for your drinks.”

“Oh, wow. Thank you and I accept his apology.”

I enjoyed my drinks for the evening.

Weeks later I was enjoying my evening when Mr Black walked in. This was the first time since our little incident. He approached me “I sincerely apologize for my rude behavior, if you just refresh my memory. Did I do anything…anything…that offended you or upset you in any way?”

I had to take of this moment. I changed my facial expression to that of regret and sadness. “You mean you don’t remember us out in the parking lot? Or your house? You don’t remember all those beautiful things you said to me?!”

He looked back at Astro like “WTF?! You didn’t tell me any of that!” His face turned red and he shamefully looked down at the ground. “No. I don’t remember anything. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m soooo sorry!” On the edge of tears when I touched his arm and said “I forgive you and nothing happened. I mean nothing happened!”

His body collapsed with relief. Astro and a few of the other crew cracked up laughing. Mr Black walked to them, but before he made it there I yelled “Hey Mr Black since your crew is always asking if my tits are natural,  can you vouch to the fact my tits are real since you felt them up every chance you had?!” He turned a brighter shade of red and just kept shaking his head.

I laughed as I lifted my drink to all of the crew members.

Feeling Out of Sorts [BFMH2016]

Tonight I was in the mood to have an adult beverage. I like going after work, stopping in with the work crowd. I seemed some out spaceytonight, Astro got a bit annoyed with me with I dropped the darts off the table. I’m not normally out of sorts. Not sure why I was, but I know that the alcohol hit me quick. I only had two bottles and then I left for home.henrys hard soda, alcohol, the bar

Before I left. A guy walked into the joint, I thought for a moment I thought it was Charlie. But then I remembered that Charlie is away at camp. This guy sat in the same spot that was reserved for Charlie. He spoke to Charlies old crew. I asked a friend of a friend “Who is that guy? I’ve hadn’t seen him in here before?” One of the friends says “that’s Charlie.”

I said nothing, just sat there for a second. Then the other friend said “No that’s not Charlie, he’s away at camp. He’ll be there for a while.” Again I’m sitting there spaced out, missing Charlie and wishing I would have told him that I was sorry. Why does it always end up that way? The last time is always the worst time, ending a relationship on a horrible note. Anyway, has my mind is wandering in that last moment Charlie & I were together Stan walks up to me.

Stan is an older gentleman who went down hill when his wife passed away last year. He couldn’t seem to keep it together. He is a really sweet old guy. He taps me on the shoulder and asks “How’s your brother? Is he still at camp? No way for him to get out, huh? Going to stay there for a long time, huh? He’s a good guy but made some bad decisions.” Now the one friend who said that Charlie was away also had a brief fling with him. She had been one of my replacements when I was taking a break from him. She is seriously a broken chick. She has talked to me, helped me take a mutual friend home because she was too drunk to drive. But at no time did I ever tell her who I am.

Everyone in the bar treats me differently than the others. Charlie’s other girls never stayed very long. But I’m the one everyone knows, who gets the respect of being Charlie’s girl. God how I miss his toxic behavior in my life. And I only miss it because his behavior kept me grounded. Grounded you say? Well in the way that Charlie acted out for the both of us and then I didn’t have to. I didn’t have to put my life on the line, by acting out impulsively. Sure I did with Charlie, the sex, the drugs, the booze and the running game and hustle. I was kept close to him, I felt safe in a twisted way. I guess that’s way I miss him. He’s the crazy part of me, always running. But when I get tired, exhausted and want to try to be normal I go home. Where I hide myself from the world.

As I sat there in the bar, I looked around at the people sitting there. Decided the best thing for me right now would be to go home. And so I did.

[Even though the “Blog for Mental Health” meme has been disconnected I continued to share…I pledge my commitment to the Blog for Mental Health 2014 Project. I will blog about mental health topics not only for myself, but for others. By displaying this badge, I show my pride, dedication, and acceptance for mental health. I use this to promote mental health education in the struggle to erase stigma.]

Leave Before You Act [BFMH2016]

My friend text me wanting to get a drink. As usual she wants to visit the dive bar where Charlie & I hang out. She droves across town for a few drinks. I agree to have a drink with her, as I approach the bar I see Billy standing outside. “Charlie’s inside.”

WHAT???

Did he just say Charlie is inside? Should I be angry that Charlie lied to me about not being there at night. It was a little after 7pm, he also said that he would only be there on the weekends. WTF?! Now, I’m caught off guard. This started to eat at me, before I could even get a handle on the situation. As my friend opened the bar door I looked briefly in to the bar. Charlie is standing with his back to the door. She walks in, I wait until a few minutes later, still talking to Billy about shit.

I see another one of Charlie’s crew members, Bud. He walks in, sits down and looks at me from across the bar. He had a blank look on his face. Kind of pissed off, kind of angry and one of don’t talk to me. Sunday, I had mentioned to Charlie that one night that Bud was super drunk and had kind of hit on me to go with him to another bar. I laughed “as if.” And now that Charlie’s back, he’s already talked to everyone, or most of them. I can bet that Charlie has already talked to Bud about what I said. FUCK! ARGH! My fault for telling Charlie – anything.

Astro walks out, we don’t speak. I think its eating at him that I don’t talk to him now. I guess I don’t really need to. I’m sitting there drinking my drink, listening for Charlie’s voice. I watch him in the mirror shooting pool. He never comes over to me, nor I to him. I don’t even look around the bar. My friend babbles on about what’s going on with me. And stuff she feels she needs to share with me. I can feel the emotional overload brewing in my gut.

Instead of having some sort of outburst, I tend to run to my safe place. But before I could do that Astro comes over to me. “Can I talk to you a minute, outside?”

NOW WHAT THE FUCK!?!?!?!

We walk outside, I see Charlie watching from across the room but makes no effort to come see what’s going on. Astro starts in on me about the last time we had a conversation. How he knew he pissed me off, but he was trying to keep me safe, blahblahblah. He went on to say that I need to be careful with the women that I’ve hung around with, because it’s not good. WHAT? WHAT? Are you telling me the drunks in a dive bar are judgmental? That I’m being judged by the people I drink with? FUCKIN’ Kidding me! He just gave me a bush of bullshit excuses as to why he did what he did to me. I told him I made a mistake that night, I will never do it again. I wont ever ask him for anything again. I ended the conversation with “we’re good.” I’m not really but there’s nothing more to say.

I walk back to my friend, “You were out there a really long time? What’s wrong? You ok?” I guess I’m not good at hiding my emotions. It’s really easy to see it all in my eyes. I said “Yea, I’m good, but I gotta leave.”

She starts in “Tell me what’s going on. You can’t leave.”

The night spiraled too quickly out of control for me. I started to feel disgusted sitting there in that shit hole dive bar. She kept pressuring me to tell her. FUCK I hate that shit. If I wanted you to know, fuck I’d tell you. She tosses out “well if you’re gonna start keeping secrets than I’m gonna not tell you stuff.” Motherfuck. Really?! She doesn’t tell me shit about shit and maybe I’m a shitting friend for not asking or even worse for not caring. I think it’s a shitty friend. If I cared I would ask, right?

I wanted to scream at her. Can’t do that, right? I wanted to run home and emotionally vomit on my beloved. I felt like I can’t breath, better yet like you have to puke, but you’re trying to hold it in until you get to the toilet for the release. Yeah, that’s how I felt.

I don’t like it when a friend pressures me in to doing something I don’t want do to. Like when I wanted to leave the bar because I no longer felt comfortable there. Instead of just saying “OK…” with some simple add-on statement they have to start asking & demanding an explanation about why I wanna leave. Friends, I think would have said “yea, sure we’ll finish catching up later.”

I can’t tell her what I know. She says “I didn’t know that Charlie was back, when did he get back?” I know all the back story but I can’t tell her nor do I want to. I tried to explain to her in some words about this specific dive bar. That I noticed the judgement from the others in the bar when I am with who ever. She mumbles at me “So We’re just here hanging a drink, that’s all.” She doesn’t get how cliquish that place is, how they all look at who am I with, they look at why is she there. I know it’s for Charlie and most people are starting to figure that out. Sure she knows a lot of people, but I also notice that she doesn’t have a lot of friends.  I guess I’m tired of this bar. I thought I wanted to be in the know, but not anymore. It’s a lot of work to be popular, even among the drunks. I just don’t want to be bothered with it anymore. Leave while you’re on top.

I did leave after telling her that I would explain at a later date. I gave her a hug and walked out the front door, not looking back to see Charlie I just left. A part of me was praying that he was waiting outside the back door, but he wasn’t. I haven’t heard from him since Tuesday when I got a text from him. UGH. Emotions, I hate them.walking the dog

My emotions are somewhat raw today. I did some exercising this morning to get the hormones moving. I took the dog for a long walk to clear my head. It did for a like a minute. I know that I need a good nights rest since last night I didn’t have one. Need to eat properly, which I have been, no sweets.

Looking back at the night. I had one drink in 45 minutes. I didn’t want anymore. I didn’t crave any more. I knew that any more alcohol in an emotional state could have serious consequences. I came home, waited for my beloved to get ready for me to emotionally vomit on him, but he took too long. Fuel to the already smoldering fire. I just want a new place to go to have a drink. I don’t want to go back there anymore. I just can’t process the judgmental boozeheads…..

Examples of BPD symptoms in the above are…

  • Wanting to Yell at Someone. You might want to yell & scream at someone to relieve your emotional pressure that’s building. Suggestion is to remove yourself from the situation as soon as you feel those urges building & brewing inside you.
  • Feeling Disgust.

Helpful Hints

  • Find a constructive way of releasing it. Talking it over with someone you care about works wonders.
  • Work through the situation, find what triggered you to get emotional. Make a mental note for the future.
  • Finding out where the feeling of disgust is stemming from. Is it moral or environmental?
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