The Pen is Mightier Than the Whore

I tried to include a great picture here of the working girls I used to see and, on occasion, serve but I just couldn’t find one that had what I was looking for.  In order to do that I’d have to take a trip back down to illustrious Boulder Highway In Las Vegas, NV and secure the photography myself.

10 years into my bartending career in Vegas you could say I fell into an existential crisis.

As one of my customers was professing how he’ll never go back to a regular blowjob after he ponied up the extra money for his hooker to take her teeth out…pondering what I was doing with my life was understating things.

“I’m tellin’ you, brother…once you go gumjob there ain’t no goin’ back.”

Thanks, Ross.  He was actually a good guy-and a great customer; he always tipped well when he was awake enough to do so.

But the point here is that all of a sudden…

      I’m the one who felt like the prostitute.

I was working a job I didn’t like, dealing with some folks I really didn’t like, but acting like they were my best friends…all in an attempt to get money from them.

Fast forward 5 years into my legendary career serving drinks in Vegas…

What’s different?

Having nothing else to do with the ridiculous stories of my life, I figured I’d pick up the proverbial pen (keyboard) and send them out into the depths of the InterWeb.  More so, I’m attempting to distill some sort of wisdom from these files, and if one person gets one chuckle from any of this, I’d seriously consider it a massive success.

But what I’ve accomplished is looking at life differently.  As cliché as it sounds..

    It’s ALL relative.

I could sit here and tell you about how I fell into a long period of binge-drinking depression.  Well, actually…

I am going to tell you about how I fell into a long period of binge drinking depression.

But here, I would like to kick things off a little more inspirational.

As I write this I haven’t drank in about 3 weeks.  Amazing how much easier it is to look at things with clarity when that happens.

I just simply asked myself, “Do any of these stories from bartending have any value outside of the few bucks I was able to squeeze out of them when they happened?”  A profound question for someone of my background.

But I suddenly found writing about them almost had a transformative quality to it.  What at one point of my life made me hate the fact that I was breathing now, as I wrote and reminisced, had me laughing out loud.

The cumulative takeaway from bartending is that I often have a front row seat to where I DON’T want my life to go.  That said, I don’t consider myself and better or any worse than anybody else…

…and neither should you.

I suggest you pick up the pen and give it a try yourself.  Write about things that pissed you off in the past-or that still do.  It has an amazing therapeutic effect.  You don’t have to actually do anything with what you write.  Hell, if you’re worried about someone finding what you write and laughing at you (this dumb fear has plagued me for years) get a notebook and then lock it up when you’re not using it.

Even if you HATED writing in school I can’t recommend it enough.  What have you got to lose?  See if you don’t feel even a little bit lighter inside after your pour some shit out onto paper.

Over and out for now.