My good friend Sharon took umbrage at my use of the expression “drunk out of our minds” when referring to our work habits at the Oyster Bar. She was quite right of course. We were incredibly professional in the face of overwhelming crowds.
I have yet to see any bartender (working sports events or otherwise) make it through the total chaos we endured.
The drunk out of our minds part usually was at dawn on the
That being said, our eternal father figure and boss Dennis, allowed us a shift drink. For my part that evolved into a shot every hour. This was an Old Fashioned glass filled with Bourbon, effectively a triple. Between these were countless beers. I have no idea how I survived this period. Youth I guess.
Maybe it wasn’t really that bad but that’s what I remember.
One night, after a bachelor party for our pal Benet, I staggered into work “drunk out of my mind”. I had stopped my car on the snow covered shoulder of a highway twice to vomit.