Poker Thursday Night and the Worlds Worst Sports Bar the Fox and Hound in Elmwood Part 3
I ask the waitress about the Richmond game again. She says, "I don't know if I can put it on. They might be watching those TVs."
I look around the desolate sports bar, see some pieces of sweet n lo tumbleweed and little else, and then see the couple that asked for the Vandy game a full 30 minutes after I got there and requested the Richmond game. We are in a room with 20 tvs and three big screen tvs and there are three of us. I'm dumbfounded.
Is it possible this girl isn't playing with a full deck is she trying to play Texas Hold'em with no cards in the hole? She'd always be playing the board and thinking she'd won.
"You mean they might be watching all 20 tvs... If I ask them if I can watch on one of these screens do you think you'd be able to handle that?" She looked blankly, actually that was her standby face, it was always on blankly, so she simply stood there with her normal face apparently thinking.
"Well, it's going to take some time." I look at the flurry of activity in the rest of the restaurant and by flurry of activity I mean wait people on their cell phones, and huddled around in packs of inactivity.
"Okay, in the meantime, you want to get my friend a beer and see how that team changing the kegs has done with my beer."
I ask the couple if they'd mind only watching the Vandy game on two of the large screens (I omit that technically I was there first, and requested a game first). They agreed they only needed two of the big screens as they were facing different directions (what?) but they guessed... I could have the third. I wasn't complaining, this forced half-ass compliance was the closet thing to a victory for me all day.
Surely, the staff was fucking with me. Surely, it couldn't be this bad. But no it was, and it got worse
Sometime later, after watching the manager look at her watch and walk over the scattered sweet and lo packs, and the entire staff of roughly 40 with a clientale of maybe 10 (and four of us in one room) standing around like 17 year olds in front of a seven eleven hoping somebody cool enough would just buy them beer without them even asking, she disapears into her rabbit hole.
I get up to go see if maybe by some good fortune there is the Richmond game in one of the other two sections of the restaurant and in doing so see the manager step back into reality. "Oh, you wanted the Richmond game right," she seems borderline nice, i guess she had punished me enough. "If you want the volume on I'll put it in there."
Okay, so we move to a different section of the restaurant and get the Richmond game, and American Gladiator, and girls softball, and hunting and fishing shows. Our waitress had tucked back into the the ninth dimesnion her iPhone app would pull her into and not be seen for a refill until the second half. I said refill, oh yeah, she finally showed up with my beer and for my friend gave him a green beer of the same size. "What was left at the bottom of the keg," from St. Patricks day. Oddly my beer wasn't green, and they were changing the keg before they could serve mine. Just typical fluctations of time and space in that miserable, hell hole of a bar.
So of course, after that fiasco, the game is going to pieces and Richmond looks like a shell of the team they were in the second half of the season. St. Marys rode the no respect card all the way to a blowout victory. I go to the rest room with the outcome of the game pretty clearly determined, and I see the manager appear to be walking somewhere with a purpose.
"Is your team winning," she gleefully asks.
"Yes, the game is going quite well," I lie, knowing she knows the ass whopping we are enduring and go do my business. I contemplate administering a double-decker then I realize I'm a grown ass man and just pee.
The waitress apparently freed from under Fraggle Rock where puppets had hidden her for the second half of the game comes over all smiles. "Can you do me a favor my shift has ended, can I clear you out."
"Oh, you were working today?" I can't help but ask.
I look around the desolate sports bar, see some pieces of sweet n lo tumbleweed and little else, and then see the couple that asked for the Vandy game a full 30 minutes after I got there and requested the Richmond game. We are in a room with 20 tvs and three big screen tvs and there are three of us. I'm dumbfounded.
Is it possible this girl isn't playing with a full deck is she trying to play Texas Hold'em with no cards in the hole? She'd always be playing the board and thinking she'd won.
"You mean they might be watching all 20 tvs... If I ask them if I can watch on one of these screens do you think you'd be able to handle that?" She looked blankly, actually that was her standby face, it was always on blankly, so she simply stood there with her normal face apparently thinking.
"Well, it's going to take some time." I look at the flurry of activity in the rest of the restaurant and by flurry of activity I mean wait people on their cell phones, and huddled around in packs of inactivity.
"Okay, in the meantime, you want to get my friend a beer and see how that team changing the kegs has done with my beer."
I ask the couple if they'd mind only watching the Vandy game on two of the large screens (I omit that technically I was there first, and requested a game first). They agreed they only needed two of the big screens as they were facing different directions (what?) but they guessed... I could have the third. I wasn't complaining, this forced half-ass compliance was the closet thing to a victory for me all day.
Surely, the staff was fucking with me. Surely, it couldn't be this bad. But no it was, and it got worse
Sometime later, after watching the manager look at her watch and walk over the scattered sweet and lo packs, and the entire staff of roughly 40 with a clientale of maybe 10 (and four of us in one room) standing around like 17 year olds in front of a seven eleven hoping somebody cool enough would just buy them beer without them even asking, she disapears into her rabbit hole.
I get up to go see if maybe by some good fortune there is the Richmond game in one of the other two sections of the restaurant and in doing so see the manager step back into reality. "Oh, you wanted the Richmond game right," she seems borderline nice, i guess she had punished me enough. "If you want the volume on I'll put it in there."
Okay, so we move to a different section of the restaurant and get the Richmond game, and American Gladiator, and girls softball, and hunting and fishing shows. Our waitress had tucked back into the the ninth dimesnion her iPhone app would pull her into and not be seen for a refill until the second half. I said refill, oh yeah, she finally showed up with my beer and for my friend gave him a green beer of the same size. "What was left at the bottom of the keg," from St. Patricks day. Oddly my beer wasn't green, and they were changing the keg before they could serve mine. Just typical fluctations of time and space in that miserable, hell hole of a bar.
So of course, after that fiasco, the game is going to pieces and Richmond looks like a shell of the team they were in the second half of the season. St. Marys rode the no respect card all the way to a blowout victory. I go to the rest room with the outcome of the game pretty clearly determined, and I see the manager appear to be walking somewhere with a purpose.
"Is your team winning," she gleefully asks.
"Yes, the game is going quite well," I lie, knowing she knows the ass whopping we are enduring and go do my business. I contemplate administering a double-decker then I realize I'm a grown ass man and just pee.
The waitress apparently freed from under Fraggle Rock where puppets had hidden her for the second half of the game comes over all smiles. "Can you do me a favor my shift has ended, can I clear you out."
"Oh, you were working today?" I can't help but ask.
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