"A million monkeys banging on a million typewriters for a million years will eventually reproduce the entire works of Shakespeare."
Monday, January 22, 2007

Mixology 101
I've decided to do something productive with my evenings and take bartending lessons at a school in Toronto. I figured that while I'm giving my liver a workout I should at least know exactly what I'm putting through me.

The classes are two nights a week for four weeks. Three and a half hours just flies by, and not because we're all getting liquored up. In fact, for the most part we're just mixing coloured water and dumping our creations.

At first I was taking this just for personal interest, but the more classes I do, the more appealing a couple nights a week behind the bar sounds. Turnover is huge in the industry, so finding a job shouldn't be difficult.

There's also the "coolness" factor to it as well. Since 9/11 the undercover martials on airplanes would say they worked as accountants to anyone beside them wanting to chat. They used this because it pretty much killed the conversation as no one would inquire further about their profession, unless they met another accountant.

The same applies to me. I can just see people's eyes glaze over when I mention what I do for a living. Even more so if I get more specific and use the term "auditor". I figure by being a bartender, I would have both ends of the coolness spectrum covered when I meet someone new. It's like having a built-in conversation piece to walk around with.

I think after a few weeks behind the bar there would be little to distinguish me from a heterosexual Tom Cruise (like you saw in Cocktail). Just don't expect me to jump the couch anytime soon.

Comments: 2

You bartending class doesn't happen to be located on Broadview Avenue across the street from The New York Cafe and few addresses down from Loblaws, does it? If so, I used to live two blocks north of there where the streetcar turns out of the subway station. In fact, Joe could never get to sleep because my bedroom window was on the first floor facing that turn and all night long all he'd hear was scraping from the wheels and each trolley made its turn. I didn't hear it anymore. I was immune to it, but not Mr. Light Sleeper. Poor dear. He was happy when I moved out of there. :-)

Stacey

By Anonymous, at 11:06 PM  

Yes, it's one and the same. I can see how that scraping would drive someone nuts. Although at least there wasn't any crazy lady in the laundromat.

By Sanjay, at 12:22 AM  

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