Goldilocks and the 3 Bars

So I frequent these 3 bars...and just like goldilocks, there's always one that's just right...


1st – The meat market dance club with overly exited hormones far louder than the beat trance techno, that can only be tolerated when my undiagnosed, unmedicated, bipolar is in it's upswing. Zippity fuckin' do da.


2nd – The middle of the road cheers, where everybody knows your name (and place of residence in some cases) and you can pass out on the floor in the fetal position earning a free ride home without ridicule cause everyone has "been there at one point in time"


And 3rd – The black and white rainbow with a pile of shit at the end, and if checked, the beginning too. Where you stare into your empty drink attempting to fill it with dry tears instead of jagermeister just hoping that fuckin' leprechaun will stop pointing and giggling.


98% of the time I choose door number 2, Bob...because with it's comfy chair's, unlimited supply of porridge, and the possibility of ending up in bed with goldilocks, It's just right.


...But nothing could have topped the last visit to the black and white rainbow (not the real name for those of you that are googling).


So there I sat battling some low self esteem, dealing with things way beyond my maturity level, taking on duties above my pay scale so my boss could take the credit, and in drunk math, figuring out how many packages of top ramen I need to make it to next payday (in which half will go to my ex wife, the paycheck, not the top ramen). I wanted to order another drink but Mr. X (The bartender, obviously a pseudonym) sat among the worker bees (as he always did) trying diligently to suck the hive empty from the queen bee we call the Oregon Lottery Video Poker. Which is really not my bag, i'm more of the barfly on the wall hallucinating swatters out my peripherals, when in full self loathing mode. Up until this night, the most excitement this bar had seen was when Mr. X went home sick at 10pm and asked us to lock up at 2am. Oddly enough everyone stayed honest, and elected a vice-bartender democratically (As a side note she's now on the payroll as relief bartender). Anyhow back to the story...


At this point, Mr. X was up about $80 dollars (but still down $20 net) so I knew I wasn't getting a drink anytime soon. I decided it was time to go, but before I could get up from my duct taped barstool, a suspicious man walked in waving a gun, as if he had Parkinson's. It was obvious this man had never popped his robbery cherry, or even seen the pictures in the kama sutra of theft. Even with his lack of experience, he learned 3 very good lessons that night


1.Don't rob a bar full of people, who in their current state, really don't give a shit
2.Drunken depression trumps fear
3.And make sure there's someone working the register of the place your robbing


Since it happened so quickly i'll give you the abridged police report that was never filed...


Suspicious man enters bar with non loaded gun.

Suspicious man says "Nobody move this is a fucking robbery"

Patron 1 says "Dude, that gun isn't even loaded"

Suspicious man says "Fuck you, Where's the bartender?"

Mr. X says (while playing video poker) "The bartender went home for the night"

Suspicious man says "Fuck you, Where's the bartender?"

Patron 2 – Female with maternal instincts says "Come on, just turn around, walk out that door, go home, tomorrow is a new day, get up early, go job hunting, and find something real to support your family"

Suspicious man says "Shut The Fuck Up, Where is the bartender?"

All patrons ignore suspicious man, and continue to ignore him

Suspicious man freaks out, yelling multiple profanities, and flees the scene

All patrons laugh...Just Right