In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “The Full Moon.”
Over the years, I have always relied on waitressing and bar tending as a fall back. I learned something that just about every other bartender, emergency worker, nurse and physician will agree on. A full moon makes people go bitch ass crazy.
I don’t care if the scientific evidence is iffy, experience is key on this matter in my opinion. There were just too many correlations. I had to deal with more fights, unruly drunks, and fake IDs on a full moon than any other time of the month. All the bartenders had a communication system. If I have to kick some out and see which way they are heading, I call the 3 other bars in that direction and give them a heads up with a physical description and nature of the crime. They would do the same for me. On more than one occasion, on my third call to a particular bar, I would ask “is it the full moon already?” ( I worked in a bar with no windows in my area). “Just a moment,” I would hear on the other end. “Almost but not quite, so tomorrow is going to be worse.” Peachy.
My absolute favorite was wrapping up a catering shift bar tending a wedding in a resort hotel. Two bridesmaids started a fight, the grooms mother ended up in a very undignified position after thinking she could twerk, and I had to deal with several angry guests livid about the fact I prohibited from bringing their own drinks down from the room.
A quick aside on the bringing the drinks from the room down thing. I completely understand the hotel was making me charge a ridiculous amount of money per drink. I agree I wouldn’t have wanted to pay it. And yes, you are free to drink alcohol from wherever you would like to buy it in your room. But in my state, the second you cross the line down to the area where we are selling alcohol via our state granted liquor license, no liquor may be in that area unless we have sold it. If I let you bring it in, I get fired, get personally fined $1000 and cannot work in any business that sells alcohol for two years. That means I can’t even get a job at a grocery store or gas station because they sell beer and wine. I’m not trying to cheat you, but you getting a cheap drink is not worth the quality of my life. So please stop to consider I may have valid reasons for my refusal before you start shouting at me six inches from my face? Thanks.
Back to wrapping up the wedding. It was 12:30am, I had to travel through three towns to get home, and the only grocery store open past 11pm was half a mile beyond my house. Why is this important? There is no wine in the house, and I seriously need to chill. I better get going. I drive through the towns with incident, get past my house and am almost to the grocery store, when I see a roadblock. No problem, been through this plenty of times. I pull out my clock out time stub to hand it to the officer with my license.
After examining the license he leans into the car. “Where are you going this evening?”
“Grocery store then home sir.”
“And where are you coming from?” He leans into the window and inhales deeply, frowning.
I gave him the name of the hotel and said cheerfully,” I just finished working a wedding. You’re probably smelling the rum and juice that got flung all over me when a fight broke out among two bridesmaids, or it’s the Miller Lite that sprayed all over my shirt when the keg blew. Here’s my clock out time, and if you don’t mind sir, I only have 15 minutes to pick up a bottle of wine before they stop selling alcohol for the evening, and I would really love a bottle of wine. But I promise not to open it til I’m safe in my house.”
He handed me back the time stub and the license. “Gotta love a full moon. Make sure you buckle up and have a good night.”