Check out the new Doc Holliday's blog too with bartender schedule and featured regular of the month:
dochollidaysnyc.blogspot.com
St. Paddy's Day. Not a holiday I like. It's for overgrown frat boys to act like even bigger idiots than they usually do. I prefer, if anything, to have a barrier between me and the often over intoxicated. The choice for me is: work, or hibernate. Since, this year, it fell on a Friday...it was easier just to "have to work it", 'cause it's my usual day. I had mixed feeling about working it: fearing fights from hell, vomit on the sidewalk, and other behavior that belongs at a college kegger. But, I knew it would be busy. Perhaps, it would be...fun! The worst part: green really isn't my color.
Upon arrival, I feared the worst. The bar was packed, and full of the kinds of customers that order Redbull vodkas, Coors light, and Long Island ice teas. It looked about 50 people over capacity, and that was at 7pm. Well, busy=money...so, I tried to stay positive.
The first hour and and half, we had already rung about what we usually do on an entire Wednesday night. It didn't seem THAT busy, but how time flies when the liquor is. And after about an hour, we had a whole new crowd...a calmer, more polite, civil one, that said please and thank you. So, the article in Time Out that labelled us an "anger bar" had possibly led a new breed of customer to us. The demographics for the magazine show the readers have money and are educated. Could these St. Paddy's Day visitors be readers of the mag.? or did we just get so lucky to have the troublemakers move on the McDate Rape bar a few avenues over? Whoever these people were...I was thankful they were there.
A highlight of the evening was the appearance of John. John, is a regular who comes to the bar with his bagpipes, and proceeds to play them at highly inappropriate times. He is very goofy, and very loud, and sometimes, he crosses the boundaries of acceptable behavior. Today, he was even on his best behavior. Dressed in full parade uniform, and not as drunk as one would expect, he showed up wanting to play. Wellllll, hell, yeah, today would be the day.
"Who wants to hear some bagpipes?". The response was an enthusiastic "yes". I proceeded to instruct the guys to close the front door, so as not to wake the entire neighborhood. The crowd LOVED it, and I really got a kick out of it. How festive!!!
Over the course of the night, I mangled my knee, by pivoting off it to get from one side of the bar to the other, and from squatting to get beer, and stuff. Last year, I had the same knee problem, with inflammation and pain, which led to me needing to get fluid drained from it with a needle. Fun, fun. I also, was fighting a headache, popping one too many painkillers, that made me feel, not so hot. By the end of the night, I was exhasted. I could barely walk, and knew I would need the entire next day to recover.
I was pretty sure upon closing, our numbers were record breaking in a few places...And the next day, I called the previous manager to compile data, and I was indeed right. Records broken.
Sometime on Saturday (the day after), I crashed out on my couch, and when I woke up, I knew something wasn't right. I was hot. Super hot. I knew I had a fever. There was a mad search for my thermometer, and found it in some odd place, no one would ever think to look. I stuck it in mouth and was scared to look. 104.3. Jesus. Ice bath. Advil. 911? I tried to stay calm, and take the proper measures to lower my temperature.
It was a fight, and I was soooo sick. I thought a few times, I was going to die. It was a weekend, and
if I wanted to get medical attention on Sunday, it would have to be the ER. Honestly, sometimes, I think I would rather die, than check myself into a NYC hospital. The waiting time alone is enough to kill you. If I could just make it until Monday, I could go to my own doctor, which luckily, is on the main floor of my building.
If my doctor's office been anywhere else, I would have called the ambulance. Luckily, I toughed it out, with rigorous folk remedies, and made it downstairs midday on Monday. After having my temperture shooting back up to 104.5, and having atleast an hour where I was visibly shaking, I somehow managed to get dressed and carry myself to the elevator down the few floors.
I don't think I have ever been sicker as an adult. It was bad. Very very bad. Mind altering even. I
came out of the delirium, thinking, I need to take more time for myself. I am working too hard, so hard, I could die. And it just ain't worth it
No comments:
Post a Comment