REAL STORIES FROM REAL BARTENDERS >>>

I've been a bartender for a long time. I have met countless freaks, jerks, pervs, sweethearts, rockstars and crazies. Even though it's a physically and mentally exhausting job, these are the colorful people that make it all worthwhile. Well, that and the tips.

I'd like to share with you some of my personal experiences behind the bar, along with the stories from some of my fellow bartenders. Each week - under the clever heading of "Behind Bars" - I will dig into my memory bank - and the incident log books that all bars keep - to bring you some of my favorite stories.

Names of bars, bartenders and patrons have been changed or withheld to protect the innocent.

And the not so innocent.

Cheers!

This week...

The good stuff

Normally, Behind Bars reports on crazy and disgusting stuff, like the guy who pooped in the bar, or the jar of piss left in a backpack, or exposed body parts, or bloody fights or thieves or urinal pucks. It goes on and on.

So, this week I'd like to take a step back and talk about the good stuff. Because it does exist. There is a damn tight community in the bar scene. Someone's always got your back, whether you need to bum a smoke or drink, or need a ride or a slice of pizza or whatever, there is continuous barter system of goodwill and fellowship.

Heck, people even find love at the bar. I met my husband eight years ago in a bar; I've watched the evolution of relationships, from that first game of pool all the way to the altar. We even had a guy include us in his girlfriend's wedding proposal scavenger hunt. It was one of the first places they'd hung out together, so he caught us before we opened, all giddy to set up a love note for his soon to be fiancé to find.

We have stacks of incident log books, chock full of disturbing things, so I decided it's time to start documenting the good stuff, too.

And there's no better way to get started then with photo booth pictures of people that are happy, nice, and having fun. Because that's why we go to bars. Enjoy.

What are your positive bar stories?

LINK: Past Behind Bars columns

REAL STORIES FROM REAL BARTENDERS >>>

I've been a bartender for a long time. I have met countless freaks, jerks, pervs, sweethearts, rockstars and crazies. Even though it's a physically and mentally exhausting job, these are the colorful people that make it all worthwhile. Well, that and the tips.

I'd like to share with you some of my personal experiences behind the bar, along with the stories from some of my fellow bartenders. Each week - under the clever heading of "Behind Bars" - I will dig into my memory bank - and the incident log books that all bars keep - to bring you some of my favorite stories.

Names of bars, bartenders and patrons have been changed or withheld to protect the innocent.

And the not so innocent.

Cheers!

This week...

Caught in the Act, Part 4

"Blow Job"

So, here we are, Part 4 of "Caught in the Act."

In my years of bartending I've caught more than my share of people with their pants down. Pissing their pants, flashing their boners, whatever. This one though, was a blow job in the ladies bathroom.

It was a busy evening. People were racking pool balls, tipping back tall boys and loading the jukebox with un-godly amounts of Judas Priest.

I was ready for a pee break so I made my way to the ladies room. Upon entering, I could hear some serious mouth breathing backed up by guttural groans. The effect sounded like a weird, harmonious underwater mating ritual. It didn't take me long to realize it was sexual. A quick glance under the stall doors where a pair of bare knees, Vans slip-ons and Levis in a heap confirmed my suspicion.

They didn't give a shit that someone had entered their fortress of drunken fellatio. She kept on slobbin' that knob, and he kept on moaning. Part of me could almost have been turned on, but the many nights of mopping up vomit on the very floor this broad's bare knees were, caused a wave of disgust to wash over me.

"Shit. I don't get paid enough for this," I thought, as I banged my way into the empty stall. As I drained my bladder, I hit the palm of my hand on the graffiti-covered wall next to me.

"Take that shit somewhere else!" I hollered.

As I made my way back to the front of the bar, I caught sight of the couple leaving the bathroom. She was digging for a smoke, hair hanging in her face; he was getting high fives and pats on the backs.

I took my place behind the bar and began pouring shots, shrugging off the recent events as just another day behind bars.

Check back next week for more adventures! Cheers!

LINK: Caught in the Act, Part 1 

LINK: Caught in the Act, Part 2

LINK: Caught in the Act, Part 3

LINK: Past Behind Bars columns

REAL STORIES FROM REAL BARTENDERS >>>

I've been a bartender for a long time. I have met countless freaks, jerks, pervs, sweethearts, rockstars and crazies. Even though it's a physically and mentally exhausting job, these are the colorful people that make it all worthwhile. Well, that and the tips.

I'd like to share with you some of my personal experiences behind the bar, along with the stories from some of my fellow bartenders. Each week - under the clever heading of "Behind Bars" - I will dig into my memory bank - and the incident log books that all bars keep - to bring you some of my favorite stories.

Names of bars, bartenders and patrons have been changed or withheld to protect the innocent.

And the not so innocent.

Cheers!

This week...

Caught in the Act, Part 3

"The Lamp Lifters"

For the past two weeks, I've told stories of drunk people getting "caught in the act" of some ridiculous thing or another. There was the man with TV dinners down his pants, there was the lamp thief we had to chase down the block, and this week brings us another lamp lifter, only this one had some serious attitude.

This gem was pulled fresh from the incident logbook. Apparently, after a confrontation between bartender and patron, where the bartender stopped an attempted lamp lifting, the drunk, wanna-be thief left this little love note:

C'mon people. I know we got some sexy lamps, but control yourselves!

Speaking of sexy, check back next week for part 4 of "Caught in the Act."

Until then, Cheers!

LINK: Caught in the Act, Part 1 

LINK: Caught in the Act, Part 2

LINK: Past Behind Bars columns

REAL STORIES FROM REAL BARTENDERS >>>

I've been a bartender for a long time. I have met countless freaks, jerks, pervs, sweethearts, rockstars and crazies. Even though it's a physically and mentally exhausting job, these are the colorful people that make it all worthwhile. Well, that and the tips.

I'd like to share with you some of my personal experiences behind the bar, along with the stories from some of my fellow bartenders. Each week - under the clever heading of "Behind Bars" - I will dig into my memory bank - and the incident log books that all bars keep - to bring you some of my favorite stories.

Names of bars, bartenders and patrons have been changed or withheld to protect the innocent.

And the not so innocent.

Cheers!

This week...

Thank god bars don't have fluorescent lighting. Every bump and blemish and wrinkle would be on display, making people have to drink even more to achieve "beer goggles."

A little mood lighting helps the atmosphere of any bar. It makes things softer and sexier. We have these really great lamps at the bar where I work. They are vintage and classy and provide just the right ambience.

People love them.

They always ask if they are for sale, or where they can get them. And, sometimes, they love them so much, they try to steal them.

Here's a story of one such individual.

Caught in the Act, Part 2

"The Lamp Lifter"

It was a recent closing on a typical Thursday night. People were shuffling out of the bar, lighting smokes and exchanging numbers, when one of the regulars started hollering about a lamp thief. Immediately, another regular and I sprung into action.

"Where is the bastard?" I demanded.

By this time, a crowd had gathered.

"That way!" They all replied.

My sidekick and I quickly sprinted in the direction of the perpetrator, my bar towel flapping in the wind. We could see him and his culprit counter-part ahead - just near the bus station. He still had the lamp under his coat.

"Give up the goods," I said, hands on hips.

"Yeah, Jerk," said my sidekick.

The man sheepishly returned the lamp. He mumbled something about being sorry and drunk and walked away, tail between his legs.

We returned to the bar, lamp raised overhead. The crowd cheered.

As I locked up for the night, all I could think was that shot of adrenalin was just what I needed to get through the last of the cleaning. That, and "what a dumb ass."

Check back next week for a story of a lamp lifter who was caught in the act - only this one wasn't so apologetic.

In the meantime, Cheers!

LINK: Caught in the Act, Part 1 

LINK: Past Behind Bars columns

REAL STORIES FROM REAL BARTENDERS >>>

I've been a bartender for a long time. I have met countless freaks, jerks, pervs, sweethearts, rockstars and crazies. Even though it's a physically and mentally exhausting job, these are the colorful people that make it all worthwhile. Well, that and the tips.

I'd like to share with you some of my personal experiences behind the bar, along with the stories from some of my fellow bartenders. Each week - under the clever heading of "Behind Bars" - I will dig into my memory bank - and the incident log books that all bars keep - to bring you some of my favorite stories.

Names of bars, bartenders and patrons have been changed or withheld to protect the innocent.

And the not so innocent.

Cheers!

This week...

It was time to dry out for a while, so Behind Bars took an extra long smoke break. But, just like the reliable drunk that you always run into, slurring and staggering, Behind Bars is back with some more rounds of excitement.

Over the next few weeks I will blog favorite "caught in the act" stories from the never-ending list of shameless and entertaining shenanigans that drunken people find themselves in, and the sometimes hilarious, sometimes fucked up outcomesthat ensue.

Caught in the Act Part 1

"Hungry Man"

Once upon a time, bars had to pretend they were restaurants by offering patrons something from the kitchen. Often, that kitchen was a microwave, and TV dinners were on the menu. At the bar I was working at the time, Hungry Man Salisbury Steak was the specialty and priced at $14.95. Needless to say, no one ever bought them. So, way in the back of the bar, to appease the law, we had a freezer stuffed with Hungry Mans.

One night, we caught a rather large, drunk man trying to escape the bar with his sweatpants full of hungry man frozen dinners! He tried to swagger out the front, sweatpants resembling a Hefty garbage bag, the corners of many freezer burned meat packages poking through the fabric. (Insert blue balls joke here.) We were shocked and amused, as we demanded he hand over the goods. He awkwardly, and rather sadly, returned the stolen items. We thought about throwing them away, but returned the meals to their rightful place in the freezer in the back of the bar, thinking we'd better have them on hand, just in case someone got hungry. We are law-abiding bartenders, after all.

And what became of the swaggering sweatpants bandit? He was promptly 86'd and filed in the logbook under "Dumb Asses."

Check back next week for who gets caught, doing god knows what.

Cheers!

LINK: Past Behind Bars columns

REAL STORIES FROM REAL BARTENDERS >>>

I've been a bartender for a long time. I have met countless freaks, jerks, pervs, sweethearts, rockstars and crazies. Even though it's a physically and mentally exhausting job, these are the colorful people that make it all worthwhile. Well, that and the tips.

I'd like to share with you some of my personal experiences behind the bar, along with the stories from some of my fellow bartenders. Each week - under the clever heading of "Behind Bars" - I will dig into my memory bank - and the incident log books that all bars keep - to bring you some of my favorite stories.

Names of bars, bartenders and patrons have been changed or withheld to protect the innocent.

And the not so innocent.

Cheers!

This week...

Little Black Book

Hello again! This week takes us on a tour through the little black incident log book, where bartenders communicate, warn about weirdoes and vent.  Here are a few snippets of humor and disgust.

12/01/04

Weird dude. (High?) Glasses. Drinks Rainier on ice and is no longer welcome. Continues to creep all the females out. We asked him to leave, difficulty ensued. Once finally gone, large portion of the bar cheered and thanked us. I see no reason to allow him in when his $2 costs us $50.

5/10/08

A 40-ish couple came in. Both seemed sober. I served them each a drink and the woman immediately went into a stupor. She couldn't walk, and all she could say was, "I love you...Fuck off!" They called a ride and left relatively peacefully.

11/24/08

I kicked out two young guys who are in town from Bellingham for Thanksgiving. One is about 5'4" with two moles by his eye. The other was around 5'8", skinny, with a beard. They were on the patio talking about "homos" and flashing their sad, flaccid penises. We will definitely recognize them if the come back.

12/20/08

The snow is no longer welcome, unless it apologizes.

Hope you enjoyed a look in the little black book. Until next time, may I suggest you try a little Bulleit Rye on the rocks. It is super smooth and buttery. Cheers!

LINK: The Behind Bars collection

REAL STORIES FROM REAL BARTENDERS >>>

I've been a bartender for a long time. I have met countless freaks, jerks, pervs, sweethearts, rockstars and crazies. Even though it's a physically and mentally exhausting job, these are the colorful people that make it all worthwhile. Well, that and the tips.

I'd like to share with you some of my personal experiences behind the bar, along with the stories from some of my fellow bartenders. Each week - under the clever heading of "Behind Bars" - I will dig into my memory bank - and the incident log books that all bars keep - to bring you some of my favorite stories.

Names of bars, bartenders and patrons have been changed or withheld to protect the innocent.

And the not so innocent.

Cheers!

This week...

The Missing Toilet Paper

After a two-week vacation from Behind Bars, I wanted to come back with a kicker of a story. I wanted bring the bartender side of Gov. Christine Greigore's refused entry to Hannah's bar and Grill in Olympia. I wanted to crack jokes and get a good read. 

But, it flopped. Plus, that was so 2008 anyway.

So, instead I bring you the story of the missing toilet paper. Which, mind you, I haven't told a soul about - until today. Normally, I have no shame. I've told stories of mixing white Russians with my breast milk. I've told stories about having sex on pool tables, and punching people in the face. But, one thing that does embarrass me is - shhh!  - my period.

So, here goes.

It was a rainy, busy night downtown. I was doing my thing, slinging drinks, flirting, you know, when I felt my tampon bleed through. (Sheesh, did I just say that?) So, I grabbed a quarter and headed to the ladies room. Of course, we're out of tampons.

Now, rather than snoop around and find some woman who might be carrying a cotton torpedo, I simply did what every woman has had to do at some point in their menstruating years - I wadded up a ball of one-ply toilet paper and wedged it into my panties.

Work carried on through the night, and at the end of my shift, I went to relieve my bladder. To my horror the wad was gone. Not in my pant leg, not in the toilet. Gone.

As I buried my face in my hands, my mind raced with all the possibilities. Oh no! What if it had shimmied down my pant leg right when I was reaching to serve that cute guy a drink? What if it had landed on the floor, its white and red in stark contrast to the black mats? What if it had escaped over the top of my Converse while I was picking up dishes - its stained surface taunting me as I left it behind for all customers to see?

I had to look for it. So, I swept high and low that night, keeping my eye on the floor. But I never found it.

It still mortifies me today - and creeps me out to think of why I couldn't find it. Maybe someone else stepped on it, tracking it into the night. Maybe some weird sexual sociopath picked it up and added it to their collection. Who knows?

Well, thanks for listening to my story, dear readers. Telling you was rather cathartic.

Until next time, cheers!

LINK HUB: The "Behind Bars" collection

REAL STORIES FROM REAL BARTENDERS >>>

Sadly, at least for her readers, regular Volcano Behind Bars columnist Nikki Talotta is STILL on vacation this week. Two freakin' weeks! Apparently, she's STILL spending time with her family ... time that is in no way related to serving drinks. Who spends that much time with their family?

In her continued absence, we'd like to offer another look back the awesome collection of drunken stupidity Talotta has archived through her work with the Behind Bars column.

"BEHIND BARS" LINK HUB

LINK: Flash-Back

LINK: Ten Things You Need to Know If You Want to Tend Bar

LINK: Ode to the Weekend

LINK: Freshly Packed

LINK: The Rules of the Game

LINK: No Texting!

LINK: Nasty Hook-Ups & Eczema Arms

LINK: Fight For Your Right

LINK: The Backpack

LINK: Just Like Family

LINK: Say Cheese!

LINK: The importance of details

LINK: Exotic tastes

LINK: Lactose intoxicated

LINK: Thanks for playing!

LINK: After hours trivia

LINK: Bartending abroad

LINK: Oh puck!

LINK: 86'd

LINK: More Aural Adventures

LINK: Big & Rich

LINK: Tales From the Incident Log Book

LINK: The Tip Jar

LINK: Aural Adventures

LINK: Smooth Transitions

LINK: The Pooper

REAL STORIES FROM REAL BARTENDERS >>>

Sadly, at least for her readers, regular Volcano Behind Bars columnist Nikki Talotta is on vacation this week. Apparently, she's spending time with her family ... time that is in no way related to serving drinks. It's well deserved. We sincerely hope she's enjoying herself.

In her absence, we'd like to offer a look back the awesome collection of drunken stupidity Talotta has archived through her work with the Behind Bars column.

Also, and as always, we appreciate bartenders like Alli Leaphart who take the time to share their own funny/gross/impressive/improbable/just-plain-interesting bar stories. 

"BEHIND BARS" LINK HUB

LINK: Flash-Back

LINK: Ten Things You Need to Know If You Want to Tend Bar

LINK: Ode to the Weekend

LINK: Freshly Packed

LINK: The Rules of the Game

LINK: No Texting!

LINK: Nasty Hook-Ups & Eczema Arms

LINK: Fight For Your Right

LINK: The Backpack

LINK: Just Like Family

LINK: Say Cheese!

LINK: The importance of details

LINK: Exotic tastes

LINK: Lactose intoxicated

LINK: Thanks for playing!

LINK: After hours trivia

LINK: Bartending abroad

LINK: Oh puck!

LINK: 86'd

LINK: More Aural Adventures

LINK: Big & Rich

LINK: Tales From the Incident Log Book

LINK: The Tip Jar

LINK: Aural Adventures

LINK: Smooth Transitions

LINK: The Pooper

ONLINE CHATTER >>>

Today's comment comes from Alli Leaphart, in response to Nikki Talotta's most recent Behind Bars SPEW post, titled "Flash-back."

Leaphart writes,

It's the 4th of July down on the Tacoma waterfront..Freedom Fair!! It was sunny and ya know what happens when young men and women drink all day is the sun...they get a little stupid and this leads me to this story.
So two guys walk into the Harbor Lights bar , one without a shirt. I say put on a shirt if your wanting to drink in the bar.. He keeps glancing down at his friend's feet...so I lean over the bar to see if his buddy is wearing shoes...everything seems to be in order..the guy puts on his shirt and I ask them for their ID's. While they were fumbling around for their ID's , my cocktail server called me over and she says.."Umm Alli...that dude doesn't have any pants on". So I'm thinking...where the Hell is he keeping his ID, amonst other things. Needless to say..they didn't get served. So my question is...did he leave home without pants or did he 'shart' his pants and ditched them?? He had a long sports jersey on so I thought he had really short shorts on...and that was freaky in its own way. He was walking around 20,00 people with his junk swinging in the wind...Poor Jodi had to see him bend over ...showing his 4th of July glory!!