We here at Rogue Enterprises Inc apologize for our terrible record for posting to this blog during Sucktember 2012. Below is a partial list of the bullshit excuses our editorial team compiled:
1. We found a keg of Peroni left over from the World Cup and drank ourselves blind.
2. We were serving as replacement referees in the National Football League.
3. We're still trying to get over the fact the Red Room is non-smoking.
4. We were stuck on the Metro Blue Line for an entire month.
5. We were so distraught Joe canceled Wednesday karaoke.
6. We were too busy jumping on the Nationals bandwagon.
7. Its October already? Where the f' did the summer go?
8. Neither Obama nor Romney endorsed our message.
9. We've been trying to resolve the hockey lockout.
10. We've been rereading 50 Shades of Gray.
11. Kristen Stewart cheated on us.
12. We do not have Siri.
13 Nasdaq.
14. RG III.
15. ODB.
16. Ahmadinejad.
17. Maryland's Proposition7.
18. We're dumber than Ryan Lochte.
19. We depleted our supply of blue electrical tape.
20. Its Summers, what the hell did you really expect?
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
The Seven Habits of Highly Ineffective Bar Owners: Habit 3
Habit 3: Put First Things Last
Confuse the issue in your own mind and then don't tell employees what you're thinking and then evaluate their performance and compensation on ground rules you haven't even discussed with them. Avoid planning like the plague or avoid it like you avoid that customer who shows up like clockwork wearing their team gear and wants to see their team play on one of the many lo-def televisions that Summers. Use this opportunity to disappear into your dungeon for three hours and encourage the server to disappear to the light side because that's where the paying customers are. Execute the bar's tasks based on their least importance rather than urgency. Never evaluate your efforts but evaluate the efforts of others and criticize them for it even though you haven't explained the ground rules. Refuse to exemplify your desired character values and then betray them. Propel yourself towards the all-mighty dollar and don't worry about your goals or your employees goals. Remember that enriching roles and relationships with customers, staff and even your own family is for total losers.
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
The Seven Habits of Highly Ineffective Bar Owners: Habit 2
Habit 2: Procrastinate and Never Have a Goal In Mind
First, never ever create a mission statement. I can't emphasize this point enough. Never. Ever. Mission means work and statement means putting stuff in writing. Putting stuff in writing is bad because writing means more work and writing means committing to something which means employees or patrons could bring it up later under oath in litigation. Lord knows we all have enough commitment issues in our personal lives that we don't need to deal with them in our professional lives. Never commit to anything. Besides, how is one supposed to build on highly ineffective habit number one of taking everyone one knows completely by surprise to gauge their honest reaction if one commits to something ahead of time?
Since you will never ever craft a mission statement, don't even bother envisioning your ideal bar or the ideal characteristics for you or your employees. It is a complete waste of time. Employees will always let you down.
Plus, envisioning the ideal work environment only means more work and you need to have the flexibility to completely dismantle your highly-abstract concept of the ideal work environment when that one customer comes in one time right off the street after a long-day of trying to figure out the baffling Washington Metropoitan Area Transit Authority metro system in which more than one train runs on one track and that train is always completely full and the train doesn't even drop them off by the museum they wanted to see and they're happy because they're on vacation and everyone else is not and maybe that's why does everyone looks so sad and these tourists are coming back after a long day of wandering around the National Mall in the hot hot sun where a bottle of water costs more than this family vacation they planned and they're hot and they're sweaty and they're mad and they're in the right frame of mind to offer solid business advice to the owner of the first restaurant they pass between the metro station and their hotel and no bar owner wants to be mired in an untenable position in which they cannot use the recently collected pearls of wisdom to the utmost strategic advantage because they're hamstrung by the completely useless business plan that the completely incompetent accountant made them draw up for the completely imaginary county regulators.
Monday, August 6, 2012
The Obvious Sonny
Why deny the obvious Sonny?
We had a lot of fun, we had a lot of money.We had a little son, we thought we'd call him Sonny.
Sonny gets married and moves to Arlington to work at Summers.
Sonny has a bucket and bills to pay which is a total bummer.
Sonny gets sunnier day by day by day by day.
The Seven Habits of Highly Ineffective Bar Owners: Habit 1
Habit 1: Be Reactive
React, react, react, and then overreact.If you want to be a completely useless and ineffective bar owner or manager, you need to react to past trends and overreact to customer and staff feedback. Javelin Joe at Summers is a shining exemplar of reaction and overreaction. He reacted well when he signed a non-exclusive contract to show the Olympics at Summers and he overreacted when he ordered ordered a million metres of blue electrical tape.
To make the most of your ineffectiveness, and completely bamboozle patrons and workers and confuse them beyond reasonable doubt, you must not only react, but overreact. Take what one customer says one time about one thing the one time they come in the establishment and make that a policy. Then change the policy when another customer comes in one other time and says something different. Remember not to tell regular customers or employees, because you want them to react too. It doesn't matter if the change in policy is four hours or twenty-four hours, you can't gauge people's reactions unless it a complete surprise.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Hard Times-- Book IV: The Whole Point
The whole point of the series of posts about Charles Dickens' "Hard Times" was to compare Hard Times Cafe & Summers to prove how much Hard Times rules & Summers sucks. I think that point was lost in the most convoluted drawn-out and boring series of blog posts ever posted on Slumlog.
The original moral of the story was that during the power outages in Northern Virginia a couple of weeks ago, the customer service that patrons received at Hard Times, which had no electricity, was better than the service that patrons receive on a regular basis at Summers, which usually has electricity.
As soon as the power went out in Alexandria, the wait staff and the manager on duty checked with each patron to see if they were okay and had no safety concerns. At Summers, one can't even get a server to check on patrons on a regular basis with the lights on and the clock ticking towards the end of happy hour. And since the power was out in Old Town, the point of sale systems didn't work, but allowances were made. At Summers, customers can't catch a break. I remember one time, at band camp, when a customer asked about their ticket with an off-hand comment about how they thought they had ordered the last beer before happy hour ended and the server said yeah, but I didn't ring it in until later, after happy hour ended.
!#@#$*&^%$? Don't understand? Play a game of Q*bert.
And it was hot as sh!t sitting next to the grill at Hard Times with no air conditioning, but the staff handled it with aplomb and made the best of a a bad situation. When it gets to be hot as sh!t at Summers, Joe turns down the lights and turns up whatever crappy radio station he has playing on the sound system.
The original moral of the story was that during the power outages in Northern Virginia a couple of weeks ago, the customer service that patrons received at Hard Times, which had no electricity, was better than the service that patrons receive on a regular basis at Summers, which usually has electricity.
As soon as the power went out in Alexandria, the wait staff and the manager on duty checked with each patron to see if they were okay and had no safety concerns. At Summers, one can't even get a server to check on patrons on a regular basis with the lights on and the clock ticking towards the end of happy hour. And since the power was out in Old Town, the point of sale systems didn't work, but allowances were made. At Summers, customers can't catch a break. I remember one time, at band camp, when a customer asked about their ticket with an off-hand comment about how they thought they had ordered the last beer before happy hour ended and the server said yeah, but I didn't ring it in until later, after happy hour ended.
!#@#$*&^%$? Don't understand? Play a game of Q*bert.
And it was hot as sh!t sitting next to the grill at Hard Times with no air conditioning, but the staff handled it with aplomb and made the best of a a bad situation. When it gets to be hot as sh!t at Summers, Joe turns down the lights and turns up whatever crappy radio station he has playing on the sound system.
Hard Times-- Book III: Garnering
The discomfited customers leave Summerstown, on an admonition from Sissy Joe and ass backwards non-smoking ans, never to return. He submits to a life of declining profits and dwindling customers. Every bartender has been absent from Summers, trying to find work under a pseudonym.
Sissy Joe makes a plan for rescue and escape, however, and he reveals that he suspected Tom early on during the proceedings. He sends Shawn off to the circus that he used to be a part of, namely Mr. Sleazy's. Shawn and Sissy Joe travel to the circus; Maya is there, disguised in blackface. The two have feelings of acrimony towards each other.
Then everyone dies. Shawn dies of a fit in a street one day. John dies in the Americas, having begged for penitence in a half-written letter to his sister, Lika. Lika herself grows old and never remarries. Mr. Bish abandons his Utilitarian stance, which brings contempt from his fellow bar patrons, who give him a hard time. Sammii continues to labour while still consistently not having a work ethic nor having honesty. Sissy Joe is the moral victor of the story, as he has children who can't escape the desiccative education of his dungeon school.
Sissy Joe makes a plan for rescue and escape, however, and he reveals that he suspected Tom early on during the proceedings. He sends Shawn off to the circus that he used to be a part of, namely Mr. Sleazy's. Shawn and Sissy Joe travel to the circus; Maya is there, disguised in blackface. The two have feelings of acrimony towards each other.
Then everyone dies. Shawn dies of a fit in a street one day. John dies in the Americas, having begged for penitence in a half-written letter to his sister, Lika. Lika herself grows old and never remarries. Mr. Bish abandons his Utilitarian stance, which brings contempt from his fellow bar patrons, who give him a hard time. Sammii continues to labour while still consistently not having a work ethic nor having honesty. Sissy Joe is the moral victor of the story, as he has children who can't escape the desiccative education of his dungeon school.
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Hard Times-- Book II: Reaping
This is the second in a series of posts about why Hard Times rules and Summers doesn't.
Hard Times--Book II
Book Two opens with the attention focused on Joe's new back bar, the Red Room, of which Sonny alongside the austere Mrs. Saammii keep watch at night for intruders or burglars. They do not however keep watch for customers wanting a drink which is why the customers have such Hard Times. A dashing gentleman enters, asking for directions to the Red Room. It is John Sturm, a languid fellow, who became an bartender out of boredom.
John is introduced to Joe, who regales him with improbable stories of his javelin-throwing youth. John is utterly bored by the blusterous bar owner, and is astounded by his inability to draw customers.
Monday, July 2, 2012
Hard Times-- Book I: Sowing
This is the first in a series of posts about why Hard Times rules and Summers doesn't.
Hard Times--Book I
Mr. Joe, whose voice is "dictatorial", opens the pantomime by stating "Now, what I want is customers" at his bar in Arlington. He is a man of "unproven facts and miscalculations." He interrogates one of his servers, Saammii, whose father is involved with the circus, the members of which are "Fancy" in comparison to Joe's espousal of "Fact." Since her father rides and doesn't tend to customers, Joe offers Saammii the definition of customer. She is rebuffed for not being able to define a customer factually; and she is rebuffed a second time for not being able to serve a customer after she learns what the definition of a customer is. Her coworker Lika does, however, provide a more zoological profile description and factual definition of a customer. Saammii does not learn easily, and does not learn at all as the rest of the pantomime proves, and she is censured for suggesting that she would carpet the Red Room floor with pictures of flowers. Saammii is taught to disregard customers altogether. It is customers v. Joe's unrealistic and incorrect version of Fact.
Hard Times--Book I
Mr. Joe, whose voice is "dictatorial", opens the pantomime by stating "Now, what I want is customers" at his bar in Arlington. He is a man of "unproven facts and miscalculations." He interrogates one of his servers, Saammii, whose father is involved with the circus, the members of which are "Fancy" in comparison to Joe's espousal of "Fact." Since her father rides and doesn't tend to customers, Joe offers Saammii the definition of customer. She is rebuffed for not being able to define a customer factually; and she is rebuffed a second time for not being able to serve a customer after she learns what the definition of a customer is. Her coworker Lika does, however, provide a more zoological profile description and factual definition of a customer. Saammii does not learn easily, and does not learn at all as the rest of the pantomime proves, and she is censured for suggesting that she would carpet the Red Room floor with pictures of flowers. Saammii is taught to disregard customers altogether. It is customers v. Joe's unrealistic and incorrect version of Fact.
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Up To Me
Everything went from bad to worse, money never changed a thing,
Death kept followin', trackin' us down, have you heard the new DJ sing?
Now somebody's got to show their hand, Joe is the enemy.
I know profits are long gone, I guess it must be up to me.
If I'd thought about it I never would've done it,
I know now I never should've come to Summers,
If I'd paid attention to what others were thinkin',
I should have know it would be a total bummer.
I was just too stubborn to ever be governed by Joe's insanity,
Someone had to reach for the risin' star,I guess it was up to me.
Oh, the Courthouse Metro is pullin' out, the orchids are in bloom,
I've only got me one good shirt left and it smells of stale Red Room.
In fourteen months I've only smiled once and I didn't do it consciously,
Somebody's got to find that damn bartender,I guess it's gonna be up to me.
It was like a revelation when you betrayed me with your touch,
I'd convinced myself Gino's back rubs hadn't changed that much.
The old Frankenbrian with the wandering eye slipped me the master key,
Somebody had to unlock the door to Joe's dungeon, He said it was up to me.
Well, I watched you slowly disappear down into Joe's palace of sin,
I would've followed you in the door but I didn't drink enough Gin.
So I waited all night 'til the break of day, hopin' one of us could get free,
When the dawn came over the Key bridge, I knew it was up to me.
I met somebody face to face, I had to remove my hat.
She's everything I need and love but I can't be swayed by that.
It frightens me, the awful truth, of how shitty that bartender can be.
She ain't gonna make a move to get me another beer, I guess it must be up to me.
Now we heard Joe talk about some random shit and I knew it was too complex,
It didn't amount to anything more than what the lack of customers reflects.
When you bite off more than you can chew you gotta pay the penalty,
Somebody's got to tell Joe's tale, I guess it must be up to me.
There's a note left in the bottle, you can give it to that annoying chick,
She's the one you been wond'rin' about, but her frame is a little thick.
I used to heard her voice for a while, now the two of us are history,
Somebody's got to cry some tears, I guess it must be up to me.
So go on, boys, play your hands, life is a pantomime,
The ringleaders from across the street say you don't have all that much time.
And the girl with me behind the shades, she ain't really that pretty,
One of us looks like a toad, this time I know it ain't up to me.
If we never meet again, Maya, remember me,
How my lone beer glass played sweet for you that old-time melody.
And the drink you never got me, that one drink you never gave free
No one else could play your outrageous bar tab,You know it was up to me.
Death kept followin', trackin' us down, have you heard the new DJ sing?
Now somebody's got to show their hand, Joe is the enemy.
I know profits are long gone, I guess it must be up to me.
If I'd thought about it I never would've done it,
I know now I never should've come to Summers,
If I'd paid attention to what others were thinkin',
I should have know it would be a total bummer.
I was just too stubborn to ever be governed by Joe's insanity,
Someone had to reach for the risin' star,I guess it was up to me.
Oh, the Courthouse Metro is pullin' out, the orchids are in bloom,
I've only got me one good shirt left and it smells of stale Red Room.
In fourteen months I've only smiled once and I didn't do it consciously,
Somebody's got to find that damn bartender,I guess it's gonna be up to me.
It was like a revelation when you betrayed me with your touch,
I'd convinced myself Gino's back rubs hadn't changed that much.
The old Frankenbrian with the wandering eye slipped me the master key,
Somebody had to unlock the door to Joe's dungeon, He said it was up to me.
Well, I watched you slowly disappear down into Joe's palace of sin,
I would've followed you in the door but I didn't drink enough Gin.
So I waited all night 'til the break of day, hopin' one of us could get free,
When the dawn came over the Key bridge, I knew it was up to me.
I met somebody face to face, I had to remove my hat.
She's everything I need and love but I can't be swayed by that.
It frightens me, the awful truth, of how shitty that bartender can be.
She ain't gonna make a move to get me another beer, I guess it must be up to me.
Now we heard Joe talk about some random shit and I knew it was too complex,
It didn't amount to anything more than what the lack of customers reflects.
When you bite off more than you can chew you gotta pay the penalty,
Somebody's got to tell Joe's tale, I guess it must be up to me.
There's a note left in the bottle, you can give it to that annoying chick,
She's the one you been wond'rin' about, but her frame is a little thick.
I used to heard her voice for a while, now the two of us are history,
Somebody's got to cry some tears, I guess it must be up to me.
So go on, boys, play your hands, life is a pantomime,
The ringleaders from across the street say you don't have all that much time.
And the girl with me behind the shades, she ain't really that pretty,
One of us looks like a toad, this time I know it ain't up to me.
If we never meet again, Maya, remember me,
How my lone beer glass played sweet for you that old-time melody.
And the drink you never got me, that one drink you never gave free
No one else could play your outrageous bar tab,You know it was up to me.
Monday, June 25, 2012
2012 Euros Epigrams - Day...You do the metric conversion
Some can gaze at the 60 HD tvs and not be sick
But I could never learn that Red Room trick.
There's this to say for blood and breath 'neath all the smoke;
It is not the food, it is the service on which I doth choke.
-A.E. Housman (with apologies)
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Summersterranean Homesick Blues
Joe's in the basement
Mixing up the medicine
You wanna know the truth?
Joe was stapling the booth
Because he sure as hell
Doesn't pay well
That's why the place is empty
Terry's on the pavement
Thinking about the government
Maya in the trench coat
Booty out, laid off
Says she's got a bad cough
Wants to punch you in the face
Look out kid A
It's somethin' you did
Gino knows when
Gino says you're doin' it again
You better duck down the alley way
But watch out for the iron gate
Lookin' for a new friend
The man in the lederhosen
Wavin' the German flag
Wants eleven dollar bills
You only got ten.
Sonny comes fleet foot
Face full of black soot
Talkin' that the heat put
Something in his bucket
The pay phone's tapped anyway
Then Joe took it completely away
Maya says that many say
I think they busted me in early May
Orders from the DA
Look out kid A
Don't matter what you did
Walk on your tip toes
Don't try, 'No Doz'
And stay away from picklebacks
You hear Guy Fieri likes Nickelback?
Keep a clean nose
Watch the plain clothes
You don't need a weather man
To know which way the wind blows.
But it doesn't blow in the Red room
Which is why there's so much smoke
That British guy can't take a joke
We should learn just to poke
Mr. Ascot in the eye
Get sick, get well
Hang around an ink well
Ring bell, hard to tell
If anything is goin' to sell
That's why the menu changes
Almost every other day
Specials, happy hour prices
Just some of the devices
Joe uses to baffle his customers
Try hard, get barred
Not allowed in the Red Room
Get back, write Braille
Get jailed, jump bail
Go to Jerry's subs when you fail
Look out kid A
You're gonna get hit
By users, cheaters
And six-time losers
Hang around the Courthouse theaters
Girl by the Margarita pool
Lookin' for a new fool
Don't follow leaders
Watch the parkin' meters.
Because they charge an arm and a fucking leg for a parking ticket in Arlington.
Mixing up the medicine
You wanna know the truth?
Joe was stapling the booth
Because he sure as hell
Doesn't pay well
That's why the place is empty
Terry's on the pavement
Thinking about the government
Maya in the trench coat
Booty out, laid off
Says she's got a bad cough
Wants to punch you in the face
Look out kid A
It's somethin' you did
Gino knows when
Gino says you're doin' it again
You better duck down the alley way
But watch out for the iron gate
Lookin' for a new friend
The man in the lederhosen
Wavin' the German flag
Wants eleven dollar bills
You only got ten.
Sonny comes fleet foot
Face full of black soot
Talkin' that the heat put
Something in his bucket
The pay phone's tapped anyway
Then Joe took it completely away
Maya says that many say
I think they busted me in early May
Orders from the DA
Look out kid A
Don't matter what you did
Walk on your tip toes
Don't try, 'No Doz'
And stay away from picklebacks
You hear Guy Fieri likes Nickelback?
Keep a clean nose
Watch the plain clothes
You don't need a weather man
To know which way the wind blows.
But it doesn't blow in the Red room
Which is why there's so much smoke
That British guy can't take a joke
We should learn just to poke
Mr. Ascot in the eye
Get sick, get well
Hang around an ink well
Ring bell, hard to tell
If anything is goin' to sell
That's why the menu changes
Almost every other day
Specials, happy hour prices
Just some of the devices
Joe uses to baffle his customers
Try hard, get barred
Not allowed in the Red Room
Get back, write Braille
Get jailed, jump bail
Go to Jerry's subs when you fail
Look out kid A
You're gonna get hit
By users, cheaters
And six-time losers
Hang around the Courthouse theaters
Girl by the Margarita pool
Lookin' for a new fool
Don't follow leaders
Watch the parkin' meters.
Because they charge an arm and a fucking leg for a parking ticket in Arlington.
Summer Vacation: Day 39
I should have won the Norris Trophy last night. I am the best defenseman in the league, maybe in the history of the National Hockey League. I also hate Erik Karlsson and his stupid hair. My hair is better. But, you know what? Instead of complaining about it, I am going to go Red Velvet and stuff my face with cake.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
2012 Euros Epigrams - Day 1
Since the World Cup haikus went over so well two years ago and since none of our writers is original enough to come up with their own material and since we have not posted in forever (because we were so distraught the Philadelphia Phlyers didn't win the Stanley Cup this year (yeah, we're hockey fans and even though we're not Phlyers fans, Phylers fans assured us this was their year (thanks for nothing mom))) we're beating a dead horse and bringing that feature back.
It sort of helps that we can copy and paste the haikus and just delete one of the lines. Easy peasy but now I'm kinda queasy. Anyway, since it is a new feature (sort of), we wanted to start with a big bang, and there's no bigger bang than Latin. Can I get an "ubi ubi es sub ubi?" up in here? No? Damn you.
I know it is not the first day of the 2012 Euros tournament, but I fell asleep, well, because it was soccer. I am awake now and the boring round-robin is almost over so I should be be more vigilant in the future. With that said, here is the first epigram:
Odi et amo Summers. Quare id faciam fortasse requires.
Nescio, sed fieri sentio, et excrucior.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Summer Vacation: Day 4
Time to find a barber. Today.
I need to ixnay the fauxhawk. Only Stanley Cup winners and rock stars wear fauxhawks. I am neither.
I need to ixnay the fauxhawk. Only Stanley Cup winners and rock stars wear fauxhawks. I am neither.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Summer Vacation: Day 2
Time to figure out what the fuck restricted free agency is.
I become a restricted free agent on July 1, but I certainly don't want to be restricted to playing in Washington again. Coach just quit and this team can't past the second round of the NHL playoffs.
Sure, I'll miss Cafe Asia and riding my Vespa to practice, but I want to play on a team that can win.
I become a restricted free agent on July 1, but I certainly don't want to be restricted to playing in Washington again. Coach just quit and this team can't past the second round of the NHL playoffs.
Sure, I'll miss Cafe Asia and riding my Vespa to practice, but I want to play on a team that can win.
Monday, May 14, 2012
Summer Vacation: Day 1
Mike Green Bobblehead here. I just wanted to let you know that I will be keeping a daily summer vacation diary here on Slumlog so that all the Greeniacs and every member of Green's Gang know what I am doing on my summer vacation.
Sure our playoff run ended early, but that just gives me more time blog and to connect with my fans. When we win the Stanley Cup next year you all will be able to look back and know exactly how we did it because I will document every single step of that process in this blog. You may be able to take the knowledge and apply it to your own Stanley Cup playoff run.
Day 1 of summer vacation started off with a bang because Coach quit.
An excellent way to build a solid foundation for next year.
Sure our playoff run ended early, but that just gives me more time blog and to connect with my fans. When we win the Stanley Cup next year you all will be able to look back and know exactly how we did it because I will document every single step of that process in this blog. You may be able to take the knowledge and apply it to your own Stanley Cup playoff run.
Day 1 of summer vacation started off with a bang because Coach quit.
An excellent way to build a solid foundation for next year.
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Seminal Moment
I told Alexander Semin Bobble Head to stop taking so many stupid people penalties and look what happens. We win a second round playoff game for the first time in recent memory.
I told Ovechkin Bobble Head to stop going out so much at night and just shoot the puck during games and look what happens. We win a second round playoff game for the first time in recent memory.
With all the sage advice I give my bobble head teammates, I should be wearing the C.
I should be the captain of this fucking team and not some rowdy Russian.
Thursday, April 12, 2012
I Guarantee It
Between periods I just thought I would send a note to every member of Green's Gang to let y'all know that I guarantee we will win the Stanley Cup this year. Go Caps.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Caps Fans Do Exist
I didn't know that the Caps had any fans left, let alone fans of color. Hell, I've only been back for five games and I'm rusty. I gave the puck away in my own zone and I almost scored an own goal tonight. Despite that, there are still hockey fans in the Washington metropolitan area apparently.
I've only been to Summers once because I heard Jerry Seinfeld watched the Tour De France there once, but I know Clinton Yates is a fan of Summers so check out his piece: http://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/im-a-black-hockey-fan-we-do-exist/2012/02/27/gIQAa7MHnR_story.html
I've only been to Summers once because I heard Jerry Seinfeld watched the Tour De France there once, but I know Clinton Yates is a fan of Summers so check out his piece: http://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/im-a-black-hockey-fan-we-do-exist/2012/02/27/gIQAa7MHnR_story.html
Friday, March 2, 2012
The Grinch Who Stole Customers
Every Drinker
Down in Drinker-ville
Liked Happy Hour a lot...
But Joe,
Who lived just North of Who-ville,
Did NOT!
Joe hated Happy hour! The whole happy hour equation!
Now, please don't ask why. No one quite knows the reason.
It could be that his head wasn't screwed on quite right.
It could be, perhaps, that his shoes were too tight.
But I think that the most likely reason of all
May have been that his heart was two sizes too small.
Or it could have been that he was getting nervous
Because his deplorable level of customer service
That was making customers insane
While they waited in vain
And it was never quite clear
When they would get they're next beer
But, Whatever the reason, His heart or his turn signal blinkers,
He stood there on Happy hour Eve, hating the inebriated drinkers,
Staring down from his cave with a sour, Grinchy frown
At the warm lighted windows below in their town.
For he knew every Drinker down in Drinker-ville beneath
Was busy now, hanging a mistleoe wreath.
"And they're hanging their empty beers!" he snarled with a sneer.
"Tomorrow will have another happy hour! It's practically here!"
Then he growled, with his grinch fingers nervously drumming,
"I MUST find a way to keep Happy Hour from coming!"
For, tomorrow, he knew...
Down in Drinker-ville
Liked Happy Hour a lot...
But Joe,
Who lived just North of Who-ville,
Did NOT!
Joe hated Happy hour! The whole happy hour equation!
Now, please don't ask why. No one quite knows the reason.
It could be that his head wasn't screwed on quite right.
It could be, perhaps, that his shoes were too tight.
But I think that the most likely reason of all
May have been that his heart was two sizes too small.
Or it could have been that he was getting nervous
Because his deplorable level of customer service
That was making customers insane
While they waited in vain
And it was never quite clear
When they would get they're next beer
But, Whatever the reason, His heart or his turn signal blinkers,
He stood there on Happy hour Eve, hating the inebriated drinkers,
Staring down from his cave with a sour, Grinchy frown
At the warm lighted windows below in their town.
For he knew every Drinker down in Drinker-ville beneath
Was busy now, hanging a mistleoe wreath.
"And they're hanging their empty beers!" he snarled with a sneer.
"Tomorrow will have another happy hour! It's practically here!"
Then he growled, with his grinch fingers nervously drumming,
"I MUST find a way to keep Happy Hour from coming!"
For, tomorrow, he knew...
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Q & A With Mike Green
It is one of the privileges of being a bobble head superstar to be able to interview other superstar wannabes. Last Tuesday I was asked to interview the real Mike Green for Craps Extra in the free SExpress. Below are excerpts from our interview:
MGBH: How nice has it been to be back the last few games?
MG: Its been great. I don't actually play defense so its been pretty easy.
MGBH: How do you feel its going so far?
MG: It takes some time. I'm slow. And lazy. I've got to get my timing back and my feel and figure out where I can slack off and someone will still cover for me.
MGBH: What's the greatest hurdle for you to get back into the swing of things?
MG: The biggest hurdle is probably that I can't actually play hockey. The next biggest hurdle is probably that the team sucks this year and that makes me look bad.
MGBH: You know what else makes you look bad? You're talking to a bobble-head version of yourself.
[some mike green comments might have been paraphrased - ed.]
MGBH: How nice has it been to be back the last few games?
MG: Its been great. I don't actually play defense so its been pretty easy.
MGBH: How do you feel its going so far?
MG: It takes some time. I'm slow. And lazy. I've got to get my timing back and my feel and figure out where I can slack off and someone will still cover for me.
MGBH: What's the greatest hurdle for you to get back into the swing of things?
MG: The biggest hurdle is probably that I can't actually play hockey. The next biggest hurdle is probably that the team sucks this year and that makes me look bad.
MGBH: You know what else makes you look bad? You're talking to a bobble-head version of yourself.
[some mike green comments might have been paraphrased - ed.]
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Breaking Bad: Summers Menu Gets a Makeover
As a fake employee of this establishment, I want to start by saying I speak from a place of love in my heart. I love this place. I don't like being the door to the smoking side because it stinks, but I love the quiet. That being said, you can put lipt stick and a pearl necklace on a pig, but its still a fucking pig. Putting a new menu cover on the Summers menu isn't going to make the food taste any better or the service any more responsive. Where to start with the new design? I don't think I've ever seen a sandwich that good-looking at Summers. Hey, how do doin? If you look closely enough you can see where Joe cut out the sports graphics from Friday's free Express. Spend some money on the graphics Joe or nobody will ever take you seriously as a serious business owner (you might also want to proofread the inside of the menu for spelling mistakes because we all know King Menus Inc ain't no Google). If you look even more closely than that, you can see where Joe used scotch tape to make the photocopies. At least he didn't use blue tape. Thank god for small miracles, eh?
Thursday, February 23, 2012
I Am an Asshole
I thought I was just a regular Joe with a regular job. I like football and XXX and books about war. But sometimes, apparently, that just ain't enough to keep a man like me interested. No. No way. I've got to go out and have fun at someone else's expense. I drive really slow in the ultra fast lane. I also stand to the left on the escalators while people behind me are going insane.
Thanks to the Adrian Fenty look-alike at CVS that pointed out my hypocrisy to me.
I was waiting in line for the next available check-out at CVS when the DC mayor's doppelganger ran in and cut in front of me to use a self-checkout kiosk.
Not liking his stance on charter schools or his cutting in line, I called him on it.
He was all standoffish and aloof and like "Oh, it that how it works?"
I was all concerned and whiny and like "Yeah."
"Oh."
"I was waiting for the next available check out."
"Okay. Wow, you don't have to be an asshole about it."
"I'm not being an asshole, I've just been waiting."
"Okay. Fine. But you don't have to be an asshole."
So I went to the self-checkout kiosk and the Fake Fenty stood in line until the cashier directed him to the next self-checkout kisok (which was next to me) and he was all detached and haughty about it and said to the CVS cashier, "Are you sure? I don't want to be an asshole like that guy."
So we cashed out at the same time and left the store together (awkward) and he got in his double-parked car (explains his hurry).
The whole experience made me pause and reflect.
I've said some dumbass things at Summers. I've done some dumbass things at Summers. I've said some inappropriate things at Summers. I've probably done some illegal things at Summers. Never, no, not once, has any staff or patron called me an Asshole.
Which is just another one of those things I love about Summers.
I can be an asshole but nobody's going to call me on it.
Thanks to the Adrian Fenty look-alike at CVS that pointed out my hypocrisy to me.
I was waiting in line for the next available check-out at CVS when the DC mayor's doppelganger ran in and cut in front of me to use a self-checkout kiosk.
Not liking his stance on charter schools or his cutting in line, I called him on it.
He was all standoffish and aloof and like "Oh, it that how it works?"
I was all concerned and whiny and like "Yeah."
"Oh."
"I was waiting for the next available check out."
"Okay. Wow, you don't have to be an asshole about it."
"I'm not being an asshole, I've just been waiting."
"Okay. Fine. But you don't have to be an asshole."
So I went to the self-checkout kiosk and the Fake Fenty stood in line until the cashier directed him to the next self-checkout kisok (which was next to me) and he was all detached and haughty about it and said to the CVS cashier, "Are you sure? I don't want to be an asshole like that guy."
So we cashed out at the same time and left the store together (awkward) and he got in his double-parked car (explains his hurry).
The whole experience made me pause and reflect.
I've said some dumbass things at Summers. I've done some dumbass things at Summers. I've said some inappropriate things at Summers. I've probably done some illegal things at Summers. Never, no, not once, has any staff or patron called me an Asshole.
Which is just another one of those things I love about Summers.
I can be an asshole but nobody's going to call me on it.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
D-Fence
I know I've only been back for three games, but I can tell the game of hockey has already passed me by. The player I should be, the player I want to be and the player I am not is embodied in the person of Erik Karlsson. Man, can he ever play hockey.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Back In The Saddle
My evil twin has played two games in a row so I assume its safe to come out of retirement and start trash-talking again because he is so distracted with learning how to skate again that he won't notice that I am talking about him behind his back.
I also assume its safe to talk about how bad the Caps are because everyone can agree on that, right?
If you were me, what would you tell Coach to help the team make the playoffs?
I also assume its safe to talk about how bad the Caps are because everyone can agree on that, right?
If you were me, what would you tell Coach to help the team make the playoffs?
Friday, February 10, 2012
Customer Service
Tonight I mistakenly answered a phone call from a number I didn't recognize.
Huge mistake.
Turns out it was a market research firm calling to get feedback about a vendor. There was the usual kerfuffle about we will see if you're qualified and you'll be compensated and yada yada yada, but I wasn't in any hurry so I decided to play along.
I should have know better.
One of the qualifying questions was do you: always often sometimes rarely never share your opinion with friends and family. Being so shy, I said rarely.
The lady on the phone was like really?
WTF?
I just got called out by a telemarketer.
Yes, really.
So she was like let me repeat the question, and you should really listen to the question this time. And do not interrupt me. Seriously now, when talking to your friends, I know you got friends right, you sound like a handsome fellow, and I know you're popular and you sure sounds smart, do you always often sometimes rarely never share your opinions about the stuff about which you are talking?
Okay, fine. Sometimes.
But the whole time I was thinking you called me to ask my opinion and you're giving me attitude? At which point I realized you were just like Joe. Joe wants me to come to his bar, he wants me to drink, he wants me to have a good time, but he'll still pull a serious attitude and treat me like shit.
Huge mistake.
Turns out it was a market research firm calling to get feedback about a vendor. There was the usual kerfuffle about we will see if you're qualified and you'll be compensated and yada yada yada, but I wasn't in any hurry so I decided to play along.
I should have know better.
One of the qualifying questions was do you: always often sometimes rarely never share your opinion with friends and family. Being so shy, I said rarely.
The lady on the phone was like really?
WTF?
I just got called out by a telemarketer.
Yes, really.
So she was like let me repeat the question, and you should really listen to the question this time. And do not interrupt me. Seriously now, when talking to your friends, I know you got friends right, you sound like a handsome fellow, and I know you're popular and you sure sounds smart, do you always often sometimes rarely never share your opinions about the stuff about which you are talking?
Okay, fine. Sometimes.
But the whole time I was thinking you called me to ask my opinion and you're giving me attitude? At which point I realized you were just like Joe. Joe wants me to come to his bar, he wants me to drink, he wants me to have a good time, but he'll still pull a serious attitude and treat me like shit.
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Illegal Similie
Trying to order a beer at Summers before happy hour ends is like trying Tuvan throat singing for the first time:
Monday, February 6, 2012
Rocket Man (I think its Going to be a Long, Long Time Before I get another drink)
She poured my beer. Pre-happy hour.
Zero hour. Eight P.M.
And I'm gonna be high as a kite by then
I miss the Earth so much
I miss my bartender
Its lonley out in the Red Room
And I think its going to be a long, long time
Til a beer brings me around again to fine
I'm not the slow drinker they think I am at all
Oh no no no, I am a Rocket Man
Zero hour. Eight P.M.
And I'm gonna be high as a kite by then
I miss the Earth so much
I miss my bartender
Its lonley out in the Red Room
And I think its going to be a long, long time
Til a beer brings me around again to fine
I'm not the slow drinker they think I am at all
Oh no no no, I am a Rocket Man
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Madame Joe
Down on Clarendon Avenue. With a childlike vision leaping into view. Clicking, clacking of Sammii's high-heeled shoe. Ford and Fitzroy, Madame Joe. He's much older now with that shirt on drinking coke. And the smell of nasty cigarette smoke comes drifting through. Cool night air like Shalimar. And outside someone is getting in trouble with the cops. Sonny's out in the street collecting bottle tops. Then he goes for cigarettes and matches in the shop. Happy taken Madame Joe. That's when you fall. Whoa, that's when you fall. Fall into a trance. Come to Summers to sit on a sofa playing games of chance. With folded arms and history books you glance. Into the eyes of Madame Joe.
Monday, January 30, 2012
The Middle Eastern Chauvinist Dude
So I was reading the reviews of Summers on Yelp! the other day (as I am wont to do because I have trouble coming up with my own material and am not above borrowing from others). I came across a review from Jess S that was posted on January 19.
In that review Jess thought it was disgusting that the manager, the owner or whoever that middle eastern chauvinist dude is who is always there would only hire Asian women.
I'm not one to generally stick up for Summers because the service can be very slow, but I thought I would respond.
One, Jess made a comment based on something that was heard. I know the plea will fall on deaf ears, but one should always check facts before making blanket statements and then posting them for others to read. One might also want to give the place a second chance because there are more than legions of Asian that work in Summers.
Two, the owner of whoever that guy is that is always there is Maltan. He's from the Mediterranean, but isn't technically from the Middle East. Might want to tweak your racial profiling database with the additional data.
Three, the owner doesn't just employ females. He's not a total chauvinist.
Sure, the service is slow. Sure, some of the bartenders and wait staff don't speak English. Sure, some of the food can taste microwaved.
But before you label someone a chauvinist based on something you thought you heard you might want to stop, breathe, count to 10 and write a less reactionary review.
In that review Jess thought it was disgusting that the manager, the owner or whoever that middle eastern chauvinist dude is who is always there would only hire Asian women.
I'm not one to generally stick up for Summers because the service can be very slow, but I thought I would respond.
One, Jess made a comment based on something that was heard. I know the plea will fall on deaf ears, but one should always check facts before making blanket statements and then posting them for others to read. One might also want to give the place a second chance because there are more than legions of Asian that work in Summers.
Two, the owner of whoever that guy is that is always there is Maltan. He's from the Mediterranean, but isn't technically from the Middle East. Might want to tweak your racial profiling database with the additional data.
Three, the owner doesn't just employ females. He's not a total chauvinist.
Sure, the service is slow. Sure, some of the bartenders and wait staff don't speak English. Sure, some of the food can taste microwaved.
But before you label someone a chauvinist based on something you thought you heard you might want to stop, breathe, count to 10 and write a less reactionary review.
Illegal Similie
Summers is like Cheers because everyone knows your name but different because then they forget it and your drink order too.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
How do I hate thee
How do I hate thee? Let me count the ways. I hate thee to the depth and breadth and height. My soul can reach when feeling Tom Brady is out of sight. For the ends of Belichik and ideal Grace. I hate thee to the level to the level of Ochocinqo's everday need, by sun and by candlelight, I hate thee freely as Men strive for right, I hate thee purely as they turn from Brady's praise. I hate thee with a passion put to use. Hating you. In my old griefs and with childhood's faith I hate the with a hate I seem destined to lose. With the losing Saints, I hate the with the breath, smiles, tears, of all my life, and if so God choose I will hate thee better after death.
New Years Resolutions
I know its pretty fucking late to be making new years resolutions, but Santa didn't bring me a new computer for Christmas even though I asked so I had to go out and use all the money I was saving to buy food for the #OccupyDC people to buy a new computer.
Resolution 1 - Save more money. A good start would be not going to Summers every night.
Resolution 2 - Post to this blog more often. I know. I get it. I understand. Joe tries hard and he really means well. But the Mayans says the world is ending in 2012 so f' it. Its now or never and I should really tell Joe what I think of his shitty dive bar, his crappy food and his sub-par service. I know, I know, don't hate the player, hate the game. I don't hate the players. There are some good people at Summers. I do hate the game though. Joe can't treat employees well enough to get them to come into Summers on a week night at even though he has two bars open, he has one bartender.
Resolution 3 - Be nice. I'm just a Joe with a regular job. I'm your average white suburbanite slob. I like football and porno and books about war. I've been to Summers and danced on the fake hardwood floor. So sometimes I just get caught up in how Joe is running my favorite bar into the ground. I will do more to be nice in 2012.
Resolution 3B - Be more understanding. Summers is great, but Joe doesn't know the first thing about running a business. I need to understand that he doesn't know anything about marketing, customer service, engagement, listening, business or common sense.
Resolution 1 - Save more money. A good start would be not going to Summers every night.
Resolution 2 - Post to this blog more often. I know. I get it. I understand. Joe tries hard and he really means well. But the Mayans says the world is ending in 2012 so f' it. Its now or never and I should really tell Joe what I think of his shitty dive bar, his crappy food and his sub-par service. I know, I know, don't hate the player, hate the game. I don't hate the players. There are some good people at Summers. I do hate the game though. Joe can't treat employees well enough to get them to come into Summers on a week night at even though he has two bars open, he has one bartender.
Resolution 3 - Be nice. I'm just a Joe with a regular job. I'm your average white suburbanite slob. I like football and porno and books about war. I've been to Summers and danced on the fake hardwood floor. So sometimes I just get caught up in how Joe is running my favorite bar into the ground. I will do more to be nice in 2012.
Resolution 3B - Be more understanding. Summers is great, but Joe doesn't know the first thing about running a business. I need to understand that he doesn't know anything about marketing, customer service, engagement, listening, business or common sense.
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