MEMO: To my loyal readers that reside in England
RE: Suck it bitches!
OK - I'm just kidding. Mostly. We sure did NOT kick your ass in Round 1 of the World Cup, however, you didn't beat ours either, and from what little knowledge I know of soccer, that apparently was a shocker [PS - I really don't care either way. Mostly.]
You know who did get their ass kicked? My co-workers at the bar, and I was not an exception. Holy Fucking Bullshit on a Tightrope. It didn't help that after working a very hard shift the day before, I came home, poured a few stiff ones, and then (insert [heh] your own "stiff" metaphor here) had sex in the shower with the guy I'm seeing, then wisely got 3 hours of fitful sleep.
Morning of the 12th, here I am walking down a deserted street at 5:00AM; in the distance I can see the faint light of the bar...illuminating 20-25 Koreans waiting impatiently to gain entry to my place of employment; the game was an hour away.
Doors opened promptly at 6AM, and by 6:04AM, I shit you not, we're over capacity. 85% Koreans, the rest got their THAT EARLY to secure a table, seat or some sort of vantage point for the USA-England game in 7 and 1/2 HOURS later!!!
Did I mention the Koreans all brought Thundersticks? Ugh. Between that, the Vuvvuzela's blaring from a sound system that was originally in a nightclub (my old place of employment) and the hangover I had, I thought I was going to die.
And that's basically how the next 10 and 1/2 hours of work went. Jose Cuervo Girl's wearing cheerleader outfits were giving out free shots when they weren't on top of the bar, a la Coyote Ugly, all the American's lost their damn minds whenever this Dodge commercial came on, one of the bartender's girlfriend's got into a fight with a drunk patron, we ran out of ice, ESPN showed up with 2 former USA National team members...you get the point, it was fucking insanity.
And you know what? The money I made, which was more than ample, was exceeded by simply being able to experience a spectacle of Nationalistic Pride, naked and ugly as it was at times...was on a scale I had never before seen. And on a lesser note, it felt really, REALLY good to know just how far I could push myself, both mentally and physically.
So, 5 days in I'm still alive...but I will NEVER drink another fucking Carlsberg.