So The Boyfriend recently started work as “head busboy” at a pub in one of the now trendier/hipper locations in Montreal: St Henri.
It’s still sketchy as fuck.
Here are some things he learned working a dive bar in Montreal, where the stale, incredibly salty popcorn flows like Molson Export and Labatt Blue. Pick up a game or two of Shuffleboard while you’re there:
1. No one believed him when he told them his name. They were convinced that it must be a stage name SPECIFICALLY for working a bar. He should also own the domain of his name and somehow earn money that way, according to all the drunkards who frequent the bar.
2. Women weren’t better than men at flushing. The score stood even. It was also equally gross. Even grosser were the unused meter long strands of toilet paper women would throw in the garbage. Men also used more paper towels than they could possibly need. Try shaking some water off your hands before you grab the towel and destroy it, you heathen.
3. One person a night would tell him about their cat.
4. Young women were quicker to give attitude to the staff than young men, who were mostly staring at the young women and choosing bad songs at the jukebox.
5. People argued over genre choices and threatened to leave if the staff didn’t tell the person who picked the song that they were a horrible person and their mother did a terrible job raising them.
6. Experimental jazz has no place at a bar, but hardcore metal does.
7. Your bartender doesn’t love you back and wishes you’d leave already. So does your busboy. He has nightmares about your butterfingers.
8. Basements, no matter the establishment, are made for Hobbits. The Boyfriend should become a Hobbit.
9. If he headed outside for a break, all the customers followed him. Customers are apparently sheep. Baaaah.
10. If he smiled at a client, they’d think he wanted to sell them crack.
(Original Content by The Boyfriend. I merely facilitated the editing and collapsing of list items process. There were originally 20. Sheesh.)