the bartending nanny

i meet all kinds of folks in new york city, in general, but i even find interesting folks at my little bar in the greenpoint area in brooklyn. to be serious for a moment, most folks can be found interesting or at least intriguing if you’re willing to look the right way, but i digress.

i’ve met a lawyer who’s worked for nbc, a filmmaker who’s offered me writing jobs (and then never emailed me as promised), an old friend who’s moved to the area and a man i’ll call “bak”.

tonight’s post was going to be about how 7 out of 10 times, when reaching into the “ones” slot in the cash drawer, i can accurately grab exactly five one dollar bills, but that changed when bak walked into the bar tonight.

you see, bak is similar to me; a twenty-something kid who’s made mistakes and come out on top as best he can. a son of a polish immigrant who started his business with “a jar of pickles and a dream”, bak learned his trade as many have; working door-to-door pimping his family’s product. bak’s family sells one of the only vodkas i’ll drink: bak’s zubrowka bison grass, and don’t test me on my claim because i drank at least three doubles of said vodka tonight. it’s tasty, natural and goes with apple juice like peanut butter goes with jelly or isaiah thomas goes with sexual harrasment and terrible nba general management. in other words: hand in hand.

tonight, bak told me that his company just lost one of its contracts due to a buyout i don’t entirely understand involving absolut vodka, selling more kahlua and 8 billion dollars. (actually, i do understand it. 8 billion bucks explains a lot.) as bak is the head of the liquor division of his family’s company, this contract had accounted for 95% of bak’s sales, leaving him in a 5% wake as tall as a tsunami. bak’s attitude entails the determination of a michael vick fighting pit bull mixed with the heart of a sarah mclachlan aspca golden retriever. he’s going to make it happen. after all, he’s got a pickle and a dream.

the point of all of this is that i don’t just glad-hand and kiss ass. i meet people who matter and have a zest for life, and i thank god for the strength to occasionally surrender my pride and open my freaking eyes and ears.

bak may never read this. in fact, i didn’t even ask for permission to write about him. it’s important, though, as a bartender, to see who people really are and not just how much they normally tip.

maybe there’s a life lesson in this for you. maybe bak’s just a swell guy who tugs on my heart strings. maybe i needed this to continue to focus on the new year and all it might have to offer. whatever the case, go buy yourself a bottle of bak’s vodka. if you don’t, he may end up knocking on your door with a case in hand anyway.

thanks for reading. now, send me some apple juice.