Did you notice how it suddenly got cold? It’s like someone up there just flipped a switch, and it became fall. Only now can I understand the people who stand in line for a ridiculous amount of time to get pumpkin spice drinks at Starbucks. Well, no, I can’t really understand that, but it’s a thing, according to my daughter who until recently worked there.
That’s right, she’s no longer a barista, now she’s a bartender. She’s making a lot more money now, because she’s efficient and personable and people give her tips. I’m happy to report that the owner of her bar has a strict rule that employees cannot drink on the job, and she’s not much of a drinker anyway. At least that’s what she tells me.
Believe it or not, she starts work opening the bar at 6 a.m. Yeah, that’s what I thought. You really want to get to know people who hit up bars at 6 a.m., right? Maybe you’d find Charles Bukowski there. But — and this is all from Curly Girl — you’d be surprised. She gets mostly shift workers, including a lot of doctors and nurses.
You watch TV, right? I’m binge watching “Grey’s Anatomy” right now on Netflix, so I get it.
After her customers get off a night of mayhem, stress and exhaustion, surprise, surprise, they can’t go home and immediately get sleepy. So they come to her bar to unwind. I hope she’s getting some free medical advice, because like most 22-year-olds, she doesn’t take care of her health.
I must admit at my incredibly advanced age, I don’t spend a lot of time in bars. OK, I don’t spend any time in bars. I feel like you have a maximum lifetime bar output range, and after you’ve been in enough of them, you just never need to do it again.
Last weekend, I met up with some old friends I never get to see and we actually did go to a bar. Well, OK, it was a fancy cocktail lounge, and I sort of forgot how one is supposed to act there. Not as badly as my friend, who only ordered a glass of water, ha ha. Not sure your server respects you when you order water, sort of like going to dinner and ordering crackers and ketchup.
It causes me great physical pain these days to order a “specialty cocktail” because they all cost $17. Are you freaking kidding me? Who decided that a 3-ounce drink full of ice should cost $17? It’s like all the restaurateurs woke up one day and said, “I think $17 is the new $5. And people are suckers, so they’ll pay it.” Even the ordinary non-specialty cocktails cost $14. I refuse to sound like a crabby old lady, but are you insane? It makes me love Mexico, where Margaritas are $5 or less.
Nowadays I always suggest to my friends that we have a belt of liquor in the car outside the restaurant before we go in, to save money, but I will admit that they all look at me like I have become a degenerate. No, I haven’t. I just know I can buy a drinkable bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon at Grocery Outlet for $3.99, so why do I want to spend $11 for a glass of the same vintage inside the restaurant?
Now, some of you are getting ready to gripe at me because, yes, I know restaurants do not make money on their food — at least not if it’s good food — and they make their profit on liquor. And they’re struggling right now, so I should help them out by ordering that $17 cocktail. But … eeek. Can’t I just order the ridiculously overpriced dessert?
I just realized I started off talking about fall weather and somehow this has veered into a rant about cocktails. Welcome to my world. This is what my brain does nowadays. It zigs and zags all over the place.
So, back to the topic, are you glad it’s fall? I’m happy that summer is over, because I hate the heat. And my son, Cheetah Boy, always insists on cranking up the air conditioning the moment the thermometer creeps for one second over 75 degrees. He sneaks into the hall and turns on our central air.
I then wait until he’s distracted and sneak back over and turn it off. I keep threatening to get one of those locking plexiglass thermostat covers, but then I have to lock and unlock it and so far I’ve been too lazy. I need one with an access code, like a safe. I could just program the thermostat and then lock it up, but that would actually require that I remember how to program the stupid thing, and it’s easier to remember how to work the codes on nuclear missiles than to reprogram our allegedly “programmable thermostat.”
Totally serious here: My friend’s husband bought a locking cover so no one in their house (including her) could adjust the thermostat. She’s always cold. I got so angry when I heard this, I was sorely tempted to get my camping hatchet out of the garage, go over there and chop the thing off. Really. Could you stay married to someone who did that?
Anyway, happy fall, and enjoy getting out your sweaters. Maybe we’ll have some actual rain this year.
P.S. Come to my next online Happy Hour! 5 p.m. Friday, Nov. 12. We have fun on there. This one I’ll just be answering your questions. Unless it’s about my weight. Well, maybe I’ll answer that one, but I’ll lie.
Here’s how to sign up to get the link: socalnewsgroup.com/virtualevents
Read More:Frumpy Middle-aged Mom: Is it time for fall cocktails yet?