Chapter 17
The
Heathers
Working there
provides a very interesting and what some may consider a unique dynamic. By unique, I mean plainly bazaar. You
can’t make this shit up type of odd.
While the bar is in fact a business which most people forget because it
becomes this bigger entity. This
is a place run for and by men 98% of the time. The thing is this, that working
in a place made for, maintained and supported by gay men sometimes makes me
feel like I’m in high school all over again. While the rest of the world seems
to want to relive their youth, I just want to get past it. I will go further on that
statement. Anyone that you or
anyone else thinks that high school was the best time of your life, then
frankly, I’m not sure if we can be friends. It’s just a matter of opinion, like people who have little
children and talk about how wonderful it is. I’m sure that miracle is glorious. Young parents often say stuff like “when he-she-it was born,
it was the best time of my life!”
I say, if you would of waited, better things may come your way
dude. Some say tomato, others say
ketchup. It’s just a
different viewpoint. On the topic
of high school again, I could barely stand teens when I was one, for this
reason alone I know that I will never be that man. The one we all know and have met. The ones with the little red porsche and tupe (at least as
long as propecia is in existence), who tries to relive their youth vicariously
by pretending to be 25 for 30 years or surrounding themselves in young
guys. Those guys always remind me
of that witch in Hocus Pocus who inhales the children’s youth.
The bar is like
every cliché after school special, Mean Girls, “California Dreams” (yes I
watched this show. If you don’t
know what it is, Google it.) and
some random episodes of “Parker Louis Can’t Loose” all mixed together. I know I seem to say that a lot in
these stories, but it’s true. High
school was nothing in comparison to my experience at the Labyrinth. In high school we at least know that we
are young and stupid. Here, some
people just stay young and stupid for life. It's something that happens when
alcohol mixes with the bad Kylie Minogue remixes I suppose. In high school I had no life, little
drama, really it was depressing. I
made Chelsea Clinton look like a rebel. For most of it, I was pretty A-sexual
and oddly okay with it. I assumed that eventually life would just fall into
place within 30 minutes and eventually I would join a cool click and have
burgers at the Max with Kelly and Lisa by sophomore year. Who was I kidding? I
really just wanted to hang with Zack, by hang, I wanted to be his best friend
and eventually have that awkward moment where we made out in Mr. Belding’s
office which would make him have to leave Kelly for me. Instead, I watched
others around me have a lot of drama, sex and lives and I was just there. I was
the observer. My high school life was metaphorically speaking like I was that
fat guy that just sat at home watching reality TV for years while getting fat,
eating twinkles and living vicariously through those I watched. The guy who
never got off of his lazy ass and let the years go by and others experience
everything.
There are the
popular ones here at the Labyrinth, much like those you see in high school
based TV shows. We (by we, I mean I) will call them Heathers for the time being
and novelty purposes. Instead the high school girls all named Heather, with
their blond hair, big-tits and short skirts who are a dime a dozen and run the
school and it’s a similar social hierarchy. Or the brunette names Kelly who graduates a B cup and
returns the college years a full D…
Here, Heathers are men who have a specific mix of sass, sex appeal and
often find their way to squish their fat asses into Diesel jeans 2 sizes
smaller than they should just to keep up with the Joneses. Working here has a
way of hypnotizing one into forgetting that there really is a whole world
outside of this disco shimmering, limp-wristed maze of a Castro bubble. Like
the Heathers of high school, they too can make or break someone in my shoes who
has to deal with them 4-5 nights a week.
Within
the 5 years that I have spent there, I have always noticed a clear clique that
has remained constant during my time, the Heathers. They are Phil’s favorites.
They often do not embody the specific, stereotypical image one may imagine a
bartender to portray or look like physically. While being very different form
one another, the quality that they all share is that they bloom in many ways
via working at the bar. There are people who have worked there often for some
time, some longer than others. Others have put it like this, “Phil likes to
take wilting, unlikely flower buds and give them a chance to grow, just to
eventually toss them to the curb or kick them out of his house.” It’s like this
group represent the closest thing he will ever have to children that he can
control. Often they go from quiet, mousy wallflowers to unlikely bartenders,
who are cocky, sometimes money/and or coke hungry individuals (if not for a
long period of time, at least for a small period of time most, but not all try
the ski slope). While in my time there, I have seen many different Heathers
groups manifested, they all have the same elements in common. Every 6 months or
so this group changes reformulates, a new king emerges while another is
dethroned or banished from the place all together. The Heathers are the ones
who get the core best shifts at the bar and this is when they get sucked into
the nexus that many bartenders fall into, somewhere between dawn and dusk,
where your world is the bar. I just want to get one thing straight though,
getting sucked into this world often has nothing to do with a lack of
education, means failure at the “real world,” in my opinion it’s about comfort
for most of us. The majority of their shifts are Friday, Saturday and maybe
Sunday. They end up making more money in cash per week than most blue-collar
people like us can understand and more than most white-collar people make a
week at the same time, where all the money goes, that is a whole separate
topic. The Heathers are Phil’s favorite bartenders at the moment. When
bartenders end up in this group they live in their own parallel bubble of
reality. They/we live the lives of vampires, rarely seeing the light or life of
day, but without stupid young teenage girl fantasizing about us. Often it is
hard for the Heathers to maintain functioning, relationships lasting longer
than the time it takes for someone to zip their pants. It’s hard to date one of
them/us for this reason and hard for anyone to get past the trick title due to
our incompatible/ horrendous schedule. I can attest to this personally, but
that is a separate story and for another time, maybe a whole book of it's own.
Since they work every time the world around them lives, they get stuck in the
inner-workings of the bar. This becomes their air, water and life before they
can realize it.
Since the Heathers
mainly hangout with other coworkers who work these good shifts along side them,
they rarely let new people into their world. By rarely let people in, I mean
they do everything they can to shut the rest of the world out. This is for two
reasons; a new person could compromise their good schedule by taking their
spot, another reason to watch out for the marbles. Get in the way of a Heather
and their ability to make money or keep their job and one should always assume
that they could be knifed at any time (not really, but kinda). Often the ones
they are weary of are new bartenders, who get promoted astonishingly quickly.
We will call them “Floaters.” They may be younger, prettier and have nothing to
offer the bar other than a new “fresh” look. These are Heathers in the making
that think they are at the bar just for a hot second while “getting through
school” or “paying off a few loans.” There are Floaters that come in and out of
this group every now and again without a scratch or getting sucked into the
Heathers’ world. A world with late-nights/early mornings, a possible coke binge
now and again and some other delights. Often though, soon these saps too are
also stuck in the inner workings of this place we know as the Labyrinth. The said
new said person/child, Floater could also divulge the Heathers’ secrets to the
rest of the bar and find ways to get them fired. These people either turn into
lifers or miraculously get fired by Phil for no reason. These floaters threaten
the Heathers whole way of life. Again, another reason to watch you’re back in
these parts.
Working there,
there will always those who wish to be a part of the Heathers. We all want a
piece of the pie. Some of us want this more than others. James, being promoted
only a few months back, barbacked like me, for years. Keeping this in mind,
while he always claims to be there just to get by and pay off some bills, he
always has had the key makings of a Heather. He would/will do anything it takes
to become one of them, even if that means getting rid of one of them. It’s
really not as viscous as it sounds since all of them would do the same to cute
little James if they could get him out of their way. At the time, there were a
few obstacles in James’ way of becoming the Heather king that he knows he can
be. There is the current bar’s manager, a coked-out, condescending guy with the
style of a one George Michael, and the sass of a one Charro, but with an ass
the size of a baby watermelon. I mean this guy’s facial hair looks like is so
manicured its ridiculous. His eyebrows are insanely plucked to divert ones
attention from his natural uni-brow. He is one of those people that likes to
bite on other people’s style. The guy that sees you wearing a jacket he likes
and the next day he is wearing the same one, a replica or even your jacket if
you don’t watch your stuff close enough. Not saying he is a thief, but wouldn’t
be surprised if things happen to disappear around him. Greedy cokeheads
sometimes will do that kind of thing, but we digress. We will call him Julio
for this story to protect anyone from getting offended. While Julio, is an
asshole to work with, as king of the Heathers he also is one of the best
bartenders there. He is good at the bartending part, but as a “manager” he is
greedy as hell and if he doesn’t like you, he will make your shifts unpleasant
and long. It is though understandable why he gets all the best shifts based on
the bartending skill alone and he helped write the bar’s schedule where he
could help keep his other Heathers close by for support. Gina is a floater who
soon becomes friends with Julio, the other Heathers during Julio’s reign and in
turn becomes one of them for a period of time. On many a occasion, I bump into
the two wasted roaming the aisles of the Castro. This is something to remember
for later.
While many of us
aren’t keen to Julio’s ruling of the bar, we are still all family. Correction,
we are all family if your family has a couple members who will turn on ya’all
every now and again. We all are brothers and sister at this place. If you ran
out of cash and need a few bucks to go get a coffee or a beer, any of your
coworkers here will give you a few bucks. No questions asked. We all trust
while at the same time stay skeptical of each other at the same time. It’s
insane.
We all tease each
other as siblings do, with the occasional back handed compliment, something
along the lines of “your boyfriend is adorable, was he in Life Goes On? What
was his name? Corkey?”
Or something as
simple as “love the jeans, they really make it look like you have an ass.” To
which one replies with a smart backhanded compliment or downright insult.
Like I have said
in other stories, it is important to have a thick skin to handle this place.
While it sounds like abuse, this often is harmless teasing, but it is more often
how friendemmies talk. This is often how the Heathers treat James. He takes the
trash they dish and sometimes gives it back, but it’s because we all know that
he is Phil’s pet. He is the only one of us that gets notes on his timecard
telling him of how he is doing such a great job. He also is the only one
besides Gina who can request time off of any kind without repercussions or
getting punished with months of shitty schedules. While this may not be
completely true, it is how it looks to me at the time.
I
come to work on a regular Friday night and am ready to bear it all, Julio, the
Heathers, the bar and all its perks. As I glance at the bar schedule to see who
I will be working with besides the Heathers, to see who the Floater of
tonight’s shift is, I am shocked to see that Julio’s shifts are whited-out.
Confused by this I double check to see if I am still scheduled/employed at the
bar, which I am and go on with my daily duties. One by one everyone scheduled
that day shuffles in. They all take a moment to check the schedule as I do.
They all have that same look of confusion/relief to see Julio not scheduled to
work this Friday night. Did I forget to mention who is scheduled to take
Julio’s spot on the schedule? It’s James. Until now, he only worked the
daytime, no big deal shifts. James’ attitude now drifts from bar
employee-drifter to a lifer. The question is, is he now one of the Heathers?
While another one bites the dust, we are used to this aspect of the bar, people
disappearing and getting fired for no reason. We all go on with our nightly
duties and the bar goes on as though Julio never worked there. After a while there is little proof or
memory that he even existed, much like that urban-legend of “Bloody Mary.”
