Why Can't We Be Friends?

While the majority of the world looks forward to the weekend for it's recharging qualities, I, as a bartender look forward to it for a whole different slew of reasons. Of course money is my number one reason for showing up at work on any given day, but there is so much more to look forward to. It's always fun running in to an old friend who just happened to make their way into my establishment, or making a new friend. Learning how to make a fabulous new cocktail, or a joke to share can brighten my evening. Sometimes I think I could do this forever and other days I think, "what the hell am I doing with my life."

This weekend I learned a little something about tolerance, and it really made the whole weekend worth it to me.

It started Friday at about 6:30 or so, I had just finished opening the bar and a very interesting character entered. Let's call him Pat. Tall, older man from the south with one VERY flamboyant personality. I learned pretty quickly that yes, Pat liked to talk, oh boy did he like to talk, and mainly about himself. I could barely get a word in edgewise. But since it was slow, I humored him. As a side note you should know that I was still pretty hung over from the night before, so I was feeling a little drained. As Pat talked and talked, I listened and laughed when queued, and before I knew it I was his "good girlfriend".

This scared me a little at first, knowing that since Pat recently moved to Fort Collins and his "charming personality" probably kept him from making a ton of friends in a slightly homophobic town, I knew this would not be the last time I was to spend time "chatting"with Pat. At some point it started to get busy, but that didn't stop Pat, oh no, if anything it heightened his fervor as he now had competition for my attention.
As my coworkers started to clock in I could tell that his presence was annoying them at best. But he either did not notice or did not care. I was starting to feel the weight of the sighs and ho-hums from my coworkers that accompanied almost everything he said. I won't get into the details of his ramblings but, lets just say they were on the verge of inappropriate, even for a nightclub.

Then it happened, the door guy who I might say is tolerant only because he's at work and has no choice, was about to kick Pat out of the bar, really for nothing outside the annoyance factor. I saw the sadness in Pat's eyes, yet another place has misunderstood him and is sending him on his way. Suddenly it hit me, I could not let this happen, he had done nothing aside be himself, and I could not stand by and let him be thrown out for that. I pulled security guy aside and told him, that while Pat may be slight grating on our nerves, he has done nothing that could be deemed a grounds for removal. He is only talking, alot, yes but talking all the same. When have words, especially coming from someone you don't know, ever really done harm to you? How can someone else's personality, flamboyant as it may be, ever affect you? People do lots of inappropriate things in bars, the least of which is talk too much or annoy the bar staff.

I realized that we were doing the exact thing I despise about some people. We were passing judgment and being intolerant of someone who is outside of our norm. And I believe it is inappropriate for us to judge a man so quickly and harshly when we have no idea of his past or current situation. I would hate to be judged by one fleeting moment and be forever misunderstood by those who judged me. I also realized that if I can be tolerant and accept someone for who they are, I can lead some others to also accept and cherish this person for their uniqueness.

That's pretty much what happened, on Sunday, since Pat had been in every day this weekend, to see his "good girlfriend". He showed up with a huge plate of food that he had spent all day cooking, now, it was for me, but since he had no idea I was a vegetarian, he brought pork ribs. He was still happy to share his food with all of us, and his face lit up to see how everyone enjoyed it.

Later, when I was giving Pat a ride home, he said to me, "girl, I love you. Since I moved to Fort Collins, I have had no friends. Thank You." Nothing I had done all week had made me feel so good.