And on the 9th day, I rested
The Krasl Art Fair was weekend before last, and we were pretty damn busy then. I think we were busier than during July 4th weekend, and I’m very glad I left fairly early since many of my kitchen-mates stayed up late to party at the restaurant and suffered at work the next day. It was definitely a fun and intense weekend.
But then there was the Venetian Fest last weekend.
Thursday night was nuts, busier than any night of Krasl or July 4th. We got rocked so hard everyone needed to come in early the next day to help the kitchen prep back up to par for Friday night, which I thought was going to break all records. But it was rather slow because of the weather, at least compared to Thursday.
And then there was Saturday. Oh. My. God.
I was working front of the house most of the night, busing tables, running dishes, stocking beer, seating tables, running to the liquor store to buy more of whatever we were running out of, which seemed like just about everything. I even made a vodka and Red Bull, and man oh man, I am SO not a bartender. I can pour you beer, wine, and shots all night long, but have little or no confidence about anything else. But the bartenders, especially on the 1st floor, where the DJ and the band were located, were so freakin’ busy that I was taking orders, having the customers yell into my one good ear since nobody could understand anyone unless you yelled directly into each other’s ears or your else your lip-reading vocabulary included every single alcoholic beverage know to man.
(Given that all 5 of our beers on tap are superior to the American marco-brew swill, would someone please explain the appeal of those two beers to me. I mean why else would you drink that crap unless you just wanted to get drunk without actually tasting anything. Oh. Ok, now I get it.)
So we actually ran out of both of those beers, and that was after I had picked up 2 more cases of each of them earlier that night from a nearby liquor store. And I bought 6 more bottles of vodka. And 3 bottles of Jägermeister. (Again, what’s the appeal with that stuff? Ok, ok, so many people could say the same about some of the beer I like. Fine, I’ll be nice about it. To each my own then 
The DJ was great, the sound system was killer (seriously, it killed all bugs and rodents in the building by liquifying their intestines), the band totally rocked it out, and the crowd was stoked beyond belief. I ran myself ragged, but what I did was nothing compared to the bartenders and other staff that did an heroic job in the face of a bazillion thirsty folks, barely audible above the pounding beat, asking for trillions of drinks that they had to make and ring up at the speed of light.
I walked out at 3:45a, very, very thankful I had Sunday off, especially since it was already Sunday.
