So I’ve just finished my first official post-Vessel job bartending for a private party tonight, and I’ve got to say that it would’ve been a blast except for one minor detail, which I’ll get into in just a minute.
First, I want to give a shout out to Murray at Zig Zag for thinking of me when one of his regulars asked him if he knew of any bartenders available for a Saturday night gig. He gave them my number and I received my first payday of quite some time. All would’ve been dandy except for that one minor detail that I’d mentioned earlier.
If I was a betting man (which occasionally I am) I’d say that my good “pal” Murray set me up, because as soon as people started arriving, they were telling me how excited they were to have the second best bartender in the city mixing drinks for them. Time and time again. Without fail. As if by script. I’ll let you guess who the best bartender was (it rhymes with “Blurry”).
As the night wore on, and people were starting to feel the effects of my prescriptions, I even had one nice gal tell me to not feel too bad about being number two as this means that there is no pressure on me, as there would be if I were the best bartender in the city.
Now don’t get me wrong, I’ll defer to that old coot Murray any day in the bartending arena, but come on! I was last year’s Seattle Magazine Bartender of the Year. I was in Time magazine last week as well as last month’s Details, this month’s Food & Wine and next month’s Esquire. Murray had Playboy last year, but this year it was my turn! I don’t need people to feel sorry for me god dammit! Just because I have no reliable source of income and live in the shadow of a Seattle legend it doesn’t mean that I need back-handed pitiful compliments of “don’t worry, your day will come.” I was just there to mix a couple of drinks in a person’s house, not to get the ego equivalent of a kick in the balls while someone pissed on my head!
Anyway, thanks for the gig Murray, but next time can you please not instruct everyone to remind me that you have a sixty year head start on me. My bruised ego won’t be able to take it even though my wallet will instruct me to grin and bear it.
UPDATED: It has come to light by some people that I may have a grudge with Murray. This is of course not true, I’m just having a little fun, and have no problem playing second fiddle to him. He’s earned it and it’s well deserved.
UPDATED AGAIN: Apparently, people are having troubles reading in between the lines. Murray and I are good friends, and occasionally bust each others balls and play practical jokes on each other. I’ll let you figure out the rest (and please be sure to heed this update the next time you see or hear me busting Murray’s balls).
Next up, (finally), will be my blog about my New York and Kentucky trip.
Oh and while I’m typing, here is the drink that I’d created for the party, which had a fire theme.
LIGHT MY FIRE
1 oz gin
½ oz St. Germain elderflower
½ oz lemon juice
¼ oz green Chartreuse
place green Chartreuse in a cocktail glass
place remaining ingredients in a shaker with ice and shake
light Chartreuse on fire with a Chartreuse mister and flame
extinguish with the remaining ingredients (use a strainer)
Drink and picture by: