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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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)

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.

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.

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.