Bartenders that have been pissing me off lately: Camus, The Old Dog

Over the past year I’ve been traveling almost nonstop, and of course, drinking to match. And while I’ve been able to quaff cocktails in the world’s finest establishments, I’ve also been disappointed plenty, too. Some of the bartenders I’ve been running into lately have made me visbly angry.

I was sitting around with my editor this morning and she brought up a quote from this article,

“…if your job wasn’t performed by a cat or a boa constrictor in a Richard Scarry book I’m not sure I believe it’s necessary.”

And it got me inspired to draw a few of these comedic frustrations into silly cartoons.  They are anthropomorphic little expressions about how everyone has faults but me:

Camus the bartender, in all black not because he is an existentialist, but because he he doesn’t care about anything.

This guy is a bit older and asking him to shake a drink with two hands is madness.  He shakes a cocktail like he is languidly jerking off.  He says he is too busy to shake with two hands but his other paw, more often than not, lies limp at his side.  Camus won’t measure anything and he loves sour mix.  He wears all black because he works in a shitty corporate restaurant that thinks it’s actually still an acceptable way for a server to dress.  Every piece of fruit in his garnish bowl has one weak little zest cut from it as to ensure that he both A: wastes maximum fruit and B: never properly garnishes a drink.  He spends most of his shift pouring beer and the second-least-expensive-wine on the glass pour menu.

Camus isn’t all bad, he is a little rough around the edges, but that’s a good thing for a bartender.  Camus has a good quick joke for you while you are waiting for a table and he is often nice enough to card your wife.

It might surprise you to learn that there is more than meets the eye here. He has a secret that not many know: CAMUS MAKES BANK.  The corporate shitbox he works for, you know, the one you love the chicken wings from but won’t admit that you ever go to, pays him benefits and a good wage.  He also gets tipped out by every  21 year old communications major that serves his beers on the floor, he works 4 days a week, pulls rent in a shift and a half, and he wants you to come see his blues rock band this weekend, he’ll put you on the list.

Camus isn’t a shithead, he is just lazy.  And isn’t it everyone’s right to be lazy?  Not if you sell me a $16 (+tax) Manhattan; I expect fresh vermouth (god help me if you tell me you use Vya or some likewise ex-trendy shit), a chilled class, a stirred drink and I want it faster than the amount of time it takes the cook to microwave the wings.  Camus, shrugs his shoulders, and shakes my manhattan and forgets the bitters.  I simply suggest, that were Camus to try a bit, he might not hate life, and if nothing else, I could get a better drink.

Blues Rock is the worst musical genre.

———————————————————————————————————————–

Next: The Rhino

In case you’re wondering: I drew this with an app called Paper 53, after I had dinner next to a guy named Georg who made this app that delightfully allows me to scribble little amusing cartoons. Georg is a great guy to talk to about schnapps, and he sure can intuitively digitize a creative process.

This entry was posted in Bartenders that have been pissing me off, Cocktails. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Bartenders that have been pissing me off lately: Camus, The Old Dog

  1. Pingback: Bartenders that have been pissing me off lately: Timothy, The Peacock « Caskstrength

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