Bartenders that have been pissing me off lately: Bart, The Rhino

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:

Bart the shitty Rhino caterer, he doen’t even have the thumbs to be all thumbs.

Hey Bart, here is an idea – after the wedding/ during the retirement party/ whatever the fucking occasion that got you hired – we want to drink, so how about you open a couple bottles *before* we walk up to your bar.

Or do you think I enjoy watching someone slowly open a bottle of gin, then look for vermouth, then open the can of olives, then fumble around for an ice scoop and when that isn’t even in place, use a pint glass to fish out the pillow ice, all to then utter:

“You wanted a vodka martini right?”

Bart, you have one job, it’s called emptying bottles and the only way you can do it wrong is to do it slowly: well, mission accomplished.  Bart left his branded plastic “Gallo” wine key in his other pants, can he borrow yours?  A wine key is the only tool in life he needs to get a paycheck other than the wrinkle free dockers he sports. Not all of us can make it to the dry cleaner, but I know you did not wash that shirt since Ari’s bar mitzvah.  Come to mention it, that bow tie is not tied at a jaunty angle, it’s a clip-on, you can at least wear it straight.

Occasionally he gets a bit creative, like the time he combined the bride and groom’s name and added the suffix, “tini,” for the signature cocktail.  Bart, I know that is just a cosmo.   He told his boss that Canadian whisky and bourbon are similar enough to only serve Crown Royal.  Bart only pours 1.25 oz of liquor a time and refuses to pour doubles. God forbid my plastic cup had a little extra fun.

But I really feel bad for Bart.  It’s not easy to tend bar off of a card table, outside, in August, facing West at sunset. It’s a bitch to be a catering bartender. And it’s doubly hard when you aren’t even a bartender.  It’s OK, I know you are just doing this gig until you get a call back from that sitcom about the 6 Rhinos trying to make their way in NYC: Rhino Friends.  Bart, buddy, sincerely, I wish a punch bowl could replace you too. But no, someone insisted on hiring your clumsy Rhino feet to ineptly open my Heinekin,and Bart, I didn’t even want a Heineken.  Heinekin is what you drink in airports when your only other option is Bud Light.  Go home Bart.

————————————————————————————————-

Next: The Fox

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: Bart, The Rhino

  1. Pingback: Bartenders that have been pissing me off lately: Camus, The Old Dog « Caskstrength

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s