Who dun sung it better?

                So, this week, Katy Perry and Lady Gaga both released their highly anticipated singles, “Roar” and “Applause”, respectively.  And because we can’t just appreciate each artist for their own Creativity, Uniqueness, Nerve and Talent, our community has decided to pit one against the other.  Which, if we’re being completely honest, is probably just a way for both artists to get as much publicity as possible—so the final conclusion really isn’t all that important, because they’re both going to sell more records because of all this nonsense.    

                Well, luckily for you all, I’ve decided to weigh in on the matter.  So let’s ask the question—Which song is better?  Katy Perry’s “Roar” or Lady Gaga’s “Applause”?  Who’s going to be the queen of pop for 2013?

                The same old arguments against Gaga are rearing their incredibly boring heads again.  She sounds too much like Madonna, or virtually any 80’s female singer because that’s clearly the type of music she likes.  She stole her look from Annie Lennox, or Roisin Murphy, or maybe she just stole it from a clown who had a little too much to drink.  She’s taking advantage of the gays by going to every gay club she can think of and whoring herself out so people will love her again. 

And then we have Miss Perry.  She made a big point of saying that the old Katy Perry was gone.  She has a video of her burning that stupid blue wig (thank you baby jesus), and one of a cat eating a bird or something.  She’s all grown up now, after she realized that marrying that hot mess Russell Brand was probably not the best idea in the world (girl, we’ve all been there), so her music’s all hard and shit.  She’s a tiger, man.  Except her song sounds just like everything else she’s ever done—super-duper catchy and fairly innocuous.  And she makes the same sound when she sings “Roooo a-a-a-a-r” that she always does, and it’s weird.

So, after listening to both songs over and over (and by over and over, I mean I listened to half of each before I got bored), I’ve come to a conclusion:

Russia is starting a fucking holocaust, people.  This is how Germany did it too, ya know.  Our gay brothers and sisters are being imprisoned, tortured, and killed.  You wouldn’t even be ALLOWED to have this discussion in Russia.  And, if we take a look back in history, you know what happened after The Holocaust?  World War II. 

                Thank god West Hollywood decided to dump Stoli bottles filled with WATER into the streets as a metaphorical gesture of support for our LGBT brethren.  I’m sure that all those gay bar owners didn’t do any of that for the publicity—of course not.  That would be disgusting, capitalizing on our poor, scared gay brothers and sisters so that they could make an extra buck.  I bet Russia was so terrified of our fearsome bar owners—man, we sure showed them.  And, no doubt, the gays being imprisoned and tortured saw all that and thought “man, that’s totally going help us out.”  I’m so happy that we showed our support, so we can get back to the discussion of who sang their new mediocre song best. 

So, my verdict? 

Shame on you. 

Shame on me. 

Shame on all of us. 

What’s happening in Russia right now is so far out of my realm of understanding.  Even though I read about it, and I know it’s happening right now, I still have trouble comprehending that this could actually happen—my mind just can’t wrap itself around that kind of hate.  I mean, gay teens are being kidnapped, tortured, and forced to come out on video.  Seriously?  It makes me sick.  I don’t really know what to do about it, but I know that arguing over Katy Perry and Lady Gaga isn’t going to help anyone, and makes us all look like fools.    

How to piss off your bartender, part 1.

     In general, the best way to insure a pleasant trip to the bar is to not piss off your bartender.  You see, at the bar, we're kind of the boss, so it's usually a good idea not to screw with us too much.  The way I see it is like this--you are a guest in my establishment, which means you need to show a little respect and decorum.  In return, your gracious host (that would be me) will try to get you very drunk and  extremely laid.  Would you go to a house party and act like a dick to the host?  No.  Well, I don't know you, you might.  But I wouldn't suggest it, if you want to stay.  So here's a few things that you probably shouldn't do, if you don't want to be called a dick.

     ....Then again, maybe you do want to be a dick.  Like I said, we're the boss, and we know it.  Sometimes we even have a slightly inflated sense of self worth (aka, we can be cocky little bitches sometimes).  I've been served by some hardcore assholes, trust.  I'm talking Taylor Swift level of assholiness.  On occasion, maybe we need to be knocked off our high (drunk) horses on occasion.  Chances are it isn't the best idea in the world, but the same could be said for that last shot of Jack Daniels you just ordered.

     And you're still gonna drink it.



"Can you turn the music up?"

     Listen honey, I'm sure this is your favorite song, like, EVER, but I have to cater to an entire bar, not just you.  And I'm not going to go turn the music up for ONE song, and then turn it down again right after.  I'm not the DJ, and if you think I have an attitude, try asking the DJ to turn the music up.  Talk about EGO.  One time a customer asked the DJ to change the volume a little at my bar, and he turned the music almost completely off for 15 minutes.  Perhaps if you stopped screaming every time you got wasted, you might be able to hear the music.  Shut yo mouth and open yo ears, gurl.

Dancing on the bar.

     This isn't Coyote Ugly, and you're just going to hurt yourself.  Knock it off!  And you really aren't going to look hot, I promise.  No seriously, have you ever seen a drunk fool try to get up on a bar and dance?  It's really the most ridiculous thing to watch.  I'm usually laughing so hard I can barely catch my breath to tell them to knock it the fuck off.   Most of the time, they end up falling before they even get up there, and the rest of the time, they're cut off.  Just dance on the floor, that's what it's there for.  There's so much of it, and it's really close to your feet already, silly.  I don't want your feet so close to my face, swinging around all willy nilly.  The bar is for putting YOUR drinks, putting MY tips, and occasionally passing out when the bartender isn't paying attention.
     (Also, the bar is not for throwing up on either.  The floor works just fine for that as well.)

Helping yourself to my fruit.

     Dude, I don't know where your hands have been.  Or worse, I do, and I don't want those hands touching my fucking fruit.  Especially when you get all up in them, instead of just plucking one off the top.  What is wrong with you?  Clearly you never played Operation as a kid.  Or you just sucked at it.
     I wash my hands approximately 300 times a night (which is why my once lovely hands now feel like sand paper and look like my dead grandpa's feet), so I am allowed to touch the fruit.  Also, don't just sit there and eat all my damn cherries and olives!  This isn't self serve, and you aren't at Home Town Buffet, fatty.  Get your grubby paws out of my shit.  If you want something, just ask, I'll get it for you.  And I wont give you an STD in the process.

"Dude, your coworker cut me off, he's such a dick.  Can I get a drink?"

     Ok, so I don't know about everyone, but at my bar, my coworkers are my friends and family.  Why in the world do you think it's a good idea to talk shit about my fellow bartenders to my face?  I promise you, if I have to choose between siding with a drunk douche bag trying to get that last drink in before we call last call, and my coworker, I'm going to side with my coworker.  Don't be that guy, because you look super duper desperate, and the only thing you'll get from me is an address to the closest AA meeting.  Don't try to go to each bartender working and order a drink, don't try to get your friends to order you a drink, and don't try to steal a drink that you think no one is sipping on, because that's fucking gross (you know who you are).
     Again, I don't know how it works at other bars, but at mine, when one bartender cuts you off, you are cut off completely.  He's not saying "I'M not going to serve you," he's saying "THE BAR is not going to serve you."
     It's also usually followed by "go home."

"Can I get a Beer, and you?"

    I hear this at least once a night.  Really?  I mean, really?  That's the best you got for me?  It is always, 100% of the time, followed up with "I'm not for sale."  And an abrupt change in attitude.  I understand that I work at a gay bar, and as such, I'm seen as a sexual object by a lot of people (thanks, by the way, it makes me feel pretty)--but I'm not a hooker.  I'm a bartender.  I make drinks, and I flirt, and sometimes I will even have sex with someone if I think they are attractive, but that has nothing to do with my profession, just the fact that I'm a horny bastard.  But I don't have sex for money.  For a lovely dinner, charming smile and witty banter?  Absolutely!
     I can't tell you how many times people have propositioned me for sex in exchange for money, and I tell them the same thing my bank usually tells me--you can't afford it.
     On that note, the best way to flirt with me is to tip really well.  I recently had a customer order 4 drinks from me, and then demand that I take off my shirt for him.  I politely declined.  He then asked me to show him my ass.  Again, I declined (not so politely this time).  He asked me why, and I pointed to the 50 cent tip he left on the bar.
     See, for me, it's not so much about the money, as it is about the respect.  Tipping, at it's core, is to say that you appreciate what I do, and the effort that I put in to my job.  If you don't respect me, then I'm not going to be very attracted to you.  But don't worry, there's TONS of other guys out there who fall for people who don't respect them, just keep tryin!

You got served?

http://www.nypost.com/p/news/opinion/opedcolumnists/you_got_served_J0xciA8V4GfJ55VsILSGxL

The New York Post recently posted an open piece (link above) from a delightful young man named Kyle Smith, about how much he apparently hates servers (and good customer service), compares them to servants and dogs, tips them 11%, and has no soul.

This is my response to this wonderful human being.

Hi Kyle, it's Jason! Thanks so much for dining with us! I don't actually care how your day is going, I'm just trying to make the fact that I have to serve assholes like yourself a little more bearable! I'm super duper sorry that I'm overly attentive to your needs, it's just that I'm trying to insure that you'll leave a decent tip after I run my ass off being your bitch for an hour or two. On average, servers make 3-5 dollars an hour in America. Sorry for trying to pay my bills. 

And I'm super duper sorry that you didn't get that second drink immediately after finishing your first one. Sometimes it's confusing when a dick like yourself gives me attitude for being too attentive, and then gives me attitude for being not attentive enough. Oh, and don't forget that I'm probably dealing with 20 other dicks just like yourself at the exact same time--sometimes all you dicks look the same. Tell ya what, Kyle, why don't you just put a shock collar on me, and whenever you need my immediate attention, just give me a little zap. 

I'm also incredibly sorry that I have to use bussers and food runners to help me out. Again, it's a little confusing, because I'm pretty sure you'll bitch if you don't get your food in a reasonable amount of time, and the only way to make that happen is if there's a team working together. It's kind of like being mad at an idiot blogger after I find out that he has an editor. Oh, and don't worry, I'm tipping my team too, so that 11% tip you're leaving me? I won't really see much of that.

Oh, and Kyle, I'm so happy that you get to spend so much time in France, where being a server isn't the same thing as being a slave. You see, they get paid a fair salary, so they don't have to hustle for tips just to survive. If I got paid 20 bucks an hour to serve you your food, I promise you would never compare me to a dog. 

PS, thanks for comparing me to a dog, I really appreciate it. 

Now, listen, I understand you probably have some compassion, because, like being a server, being a writer is so, so hard. Really, there's so few of you out there. And ones with talent, and voice, who have something worthwhile to say? Man, writers like that are a rare breed. Luckily, there are tons of douchebags with little blogs, writing about things they have no business writing about, which sounds like your true calling, so you should be good to go. 

So look forward to serving you again.