Regulars Resurgence

Some degree of buzz seems to be building about Brady's, and one can only assume it's because there is once again a competent weekend bartender to hang with. At least that's what I think is happening, because a steady rise in occupied bar stools also comes with an up-tick of bosslady compliments ("So-and-so said that was the BEST martini she's ever had in her life." One, a martini might just be the easiest thing to mix; and, two, it's probably because anything tastes good when she takes the oxygen tube out of her nose.).

But regardless of how or why (or who - yes, we all know - ME), the shine has come back to the Brady's bar scene, little by little. It has been more like a swell than an all-out gush, but that's just fine. So each time Karen comes to fill her drink order for her old-lady table or 3-kids and 1 adult party (I think that is how Jason gets people to leave - he doesn't actually fire them, or even talk to them for that matter - he just assigns them the shitty tables) she sees two more, four more, six more people sitting at her old bar, and maybe it sinks in a little more to her each time, that drugs, a bad attitude and a crappy pour don't mix.

The old regulars are coming back, having heard the news that the service-disoriented hippie is no longer mixing mediocre mojitos, and they are bringing in new blood too. Take Patty, for instance. She was a Friday night fixture who would come in by herself, command all of the bartender's attention, eat slowly, yet drink quickly, and latch on to whomever else would talk shop with her. She must have told the "I left corporate America to start my own mom-and-pop business" seven hundred times. But we can only assume that she grew tired of telling the story to a vacant stare and an empty bar, because she hadn't been seen in two months.

Yet, she heard through the grapevine that a new ear had started, and she must have hoped I would lend it to her and her decorating stories. And I did. She started coming again, every Friday. Was it my understanding ear, or maybe the 22 year-old Bar Back's biceps that re-sparked her regular visits? No matter, because she was back and with more stories than ever for the unsuspecting couple to her left, more unsolicited business advice for owner Jason (because, you know, running an interior design business is JUST like running a restaurant), and more patrons to latch onto.

I am actually grateful for Patty and her quirkiness. She started the movement back to Brady's for others to follow. And she is also is a prime target for the dragon-breath vacation-story-telling moustached man that has also reinstated his status as Brady's Regular. When she's not there for me to divert his attention (well, speech) toward, I am the receiver of all the H words he can possibly muster to string together in three, ill-smelling sentences: " HHHHi - HHHHow areHH youHHH? HHHHow've youH BeenHH?" "HHHow 'Bout a HHHEnessey's on the rocksHHH?"

"Oh, look! Patty just walked in. Why don't you ask her what's new this week in the wonderful world of HHHome decorating, John?"

Besides John and Patty, other regulars are taking a chance again, like Stan the Butcher. Stan was my regular at my last bar, and when I left (--er, had finally had enough of the Fat Bastard-like owner's lewdness), he started coming to Brady's. He couldn't keep going to Venus without me there, and was somehow showing his solidarity to me and disapproval of Fat Bastard by leaving too. Not that Stan knew where I went -- we were after all, only Bartender and Patron. Only friends while we were each on opposite sides of the bar. Though I knew all about his wife leaving him, his sons' girlfriends' names and his suffering Butcher Shop, all he knew was my weekly schedule and that I poured him a strong Grey-Goose-Soda-Splash-o-Cran.

But there he was one night, sons flanking him on both sides, just expecting his mediocre-mojito service from Has-Been-Karen, and not even paying much attention to the bar. When he saw me, he looked up, both surprised and pleased. He had found his bartender friend at a bar that he now loved even with the sub-par waitperson. But now he would have both again. And he assured me he would be back. I promised not to seat him near Dragon Breath, pondering how nicely the Brady's bar would be filling in again.

See you tonight, Patty, John and Stan, and all the other Regulars. Hope you don't mind that the Bar Back is off for the weekend, Patty. I guess my biceps will have to suffice... And John, don't be offended when you see my shiny new candy dish full of peppermints. And Stan, I'll be ready to commiserate with you on how much of a privileged, spoiled, shrew that now ex-wife of yours was. Sorry, Karen - they're all mine now...!