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:

Timothy wants you to look at him, look at his fancy shit, is that a full windsor? Fuck, that is fancy.
First off, TIMOTHY, I’d rather call you Tim. Because last week, I knew a great bar back named Tim, now I know this Brooks Brothers asshole named Timothy. Timothy has a 4 foot long mixing spoon with a nonsensical trident at the end, it will surely put his eye out one day.
Timothy is very concerned with authenticity. Mexican Coca-Cola? Timothy uses Ecuadorian Coke with cacao. He must bear the burden of barrel aging his own barrels. He only uses the miniature glassware. He puts a flamed orange zest on everything, even the napkins, but his favorite garnish is the disapproving glare. If it isn’t pre-prohibition, Timothy isn’t interested. 50% of his drink menu has a dash of Absinthe, 50% has an egg in it, and most of those cocktails also include Carpano Antica. If you don’t like his cocktails then you obviously haven’t read the 10 year old NYT article hailing the resurgence of the speakeasy. He works in a bar called the “Bullshit” Social, the “Something” Volstead or the 23rd “I could give a fuck.” AND, Timothy doesn’t carry Midori because it has artificial coloring but has a Campari stain on almost all of his ties.
Dear Timothy, the folly of excitement is no crime but pride is a sin. You are young and full of piss & something acidic. I’d like to offer perspective from mothers everywhere: Your parents are not proud of you for being a bartender.
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Next: The Old Dog
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.

10 comments
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07/02/2012 at 12:41 pm
Andrew
Oh God, I am so that guy sometimes. Thanks for the self deprecating humor. I am actually cooking chicken with angostura orange bitters right now, I really have a problem. Great blog!
07/02/2012 at 2:38 pm
caskstrength
NERD!!!!!!!!!!
sounds awesome, hope it turns out, I bet it will smell amazing
07/02/2012 at 2:46 pm
erik.ellestad
But the double windsor is the only tie knot I know!
07/02/2012 at 2:56 pm
caskstrength
Dude, you are fancy. Don’t you see me “like” every instagram photo you put up?
07/02/2012 at 4:04 pm
Wendy Miller
Alternate title: “Shit Your Customers Say”
Brilliant.
07/03/2012 at 10:48 am
Maia
“He puts a flamed orange zest on everything, even the napkins,…”
I laughed out loud.
07/03/2012 at 2:13 pm
jellydonut
This guy brings his own ice.
07/03/2012 at 2:56 pm
caskstrength
Shit, I often bring my own ice
07/04/2012 at 2:18 am
oban89
I love you, Andrew. This is cracked me up. Reminds me of a bar in SF. The hostess comes outside, looks around suspiciously, and then asks for the password you anyone can get online by giving them your email address. At first i thoyght ut was part of the show, until I met Timothy and realized they wete all dead serious. .
02/07/2013 at 12:58 am
Radu
I’ve really enjoyed the bartender reviews that follow this one (I’m reading them in reverse chronological order, naturally), but this is quite harsh (in an uncalled for way) and it seems like you’ve got more acid than you make out your victim to. It read very mean spirited, really. Too bad.