Tuesday night

You would think that word would have traveled around Portland since this gig began back in August. In some ways I feel like it has, and then again on those nights where the crowd is sparse I am baffled.

Just like many Tuesday nights before, I am sitting on my perch waiting patiently as I anxiously kill time.

Tonight I have been reflecting on the experience that one might have in entering this establishment.

When people walk though that door they see a narrow hallway lit with red lights overhead. They descend and find me there on Tuesday nights. I am simply myself. The key to having a fantastic interaction with me lays in you being real, courteous, kind and pleasant. Yes, you can flirt or be silly as that is always appreciated. The deal breaker however, is when you act like a shit (i.e. shithead).

You may or may not be surprised to read that there is a high percentage of shitheads.

Thankfully tonight is not full of them. I can look forward to plenty of them being on parade on a Friday or Saturday night.

Somehow I feel like word has to simply get out about Tuesday night. I've tried several routes to get the information out there. I have seen some really great results but on a small scale. Maybe that is the key to success? Winning over new converts one at a time?

The night progressed and the empty room began to fill a bit. A birthday party for two brothers (twins), one of which I interacted with the previous Saturday. I have become amazed at how my memory has been getting better since I have begun working at the bar.

One of the twins still lives in a state that is right in the heart of the country (Kansas, Nebraska, etc.). The two birthday boys suddenly became my guests for the night (this had repercussions of course, that in a moment) when they informed me that they loved coming to the bar so much the other night and they loved how cool I was. Because of this, the bar was the place where all their friends would come meet up and celebrate.

The repercussions of this act on my part came in the following forms:
- Country boy now proclaims that it is me, a door guy that he's met twice, which has made his decision to move to Portland final. I thanked him but assured him that he ought to focus more on the food, beer, and beautiful women that live here because I would, in time, disappoint him.

- His older sister suddenly became my new best friend. This resulted in hugs, pats on my belly, legs, winks, etc. each and every time she passed by. I thought this was funny. I'm okay with high fives and smiles too.

Just when I thought the evening would end on a lovely note there was one guy who came in that did fit that previously described patron category of 'shithead'.

This guy was loud.
This guy was there with his ex-wife (a loud, obnoxious, provocatively dressed asian woman who proved to be a worthy companion... essentially king and queen shitheads).
This guy 'knew' the guy in the band and the band guy's wife (and while they did seem to know him they looked less than excited to have him there).

The only positive aspect of his late arrival with his lovely ex-wife was that the music was almost over and they would have to leave shortly thereafter.

The night drew to a close. I ushered the group upstairs so they could harass the staff up there.

I'm going to chew on the observations about confidence as opposed to pretentiousness and get back to you on that soon.