Tuesday, December 1, 2009

ebb and flow at the crown

A few days ago I bought a used car from a couple Irish backpackers and shortly after I post this I'll be driving south on my way down to Sydney. My first stop will be Airlie Beach, then to Fraser Island, the Brisbane area, and Sydney. Sorry for the long post here, but I probably won't have internet access for a while.

I'm done working at the Crown Hotel Bar and I'd be lying if I said I won't miss this place. There are only so many places in the world where you can drink a beer at 9am, play Keno and slot machines, buy a raffle ticket from a topless waitress, and then treat yourself to a fine dinner and a room for the night. I mean really, why am I leaving?

It's been my first time in the service industry, and the one thing I've been told is that you always need to be doing something. Wipe the tables, rinse the glasses, emplty ashtrays, wipe the seats, stock the fridge, clean the bar, collect glasses, sweep the floor, and every once in a while pour a beer. The waves of people come and go throughout the day. It gets busy and dies down, there's always people flowing in and out and always a task to busy myself with.

One of the aspects I've emjoyed most from working at the Crown has been meeting new people. Some of the friendliest and most interesting people I've met in Cairns either work or drink at the Crown. The array of regulars would be, in an understated word, colorful. The owner has asked me on more than one occasion, "Who are the normal people sitting the corner, are they your friends?" But the clientele is what gives the bar its character. Two of my favorites are Terry and Ash, They've taught me more about Australia then I've learned from living in Cairns for 6 weeks. Terry is a commercial diver with a knack for telling and retelling dirty jokes, and who proudly refers to himself as a functioning alcoholic. Considering some of the other regulars, his pride isn't all that misplaced. Ash is a bus driver who comes in on his days off (I hope) and throws down bottles of beer like they're juice boxes. There's also Smiley, who sits by himself and has animated arguments with who I can only assume is an imaginary friend. If he decides to direct his ire on actual people, I kindly ask him to leave. In Smiley's defense, there's a little bit of crazy in everyone here.

Then there are the Aboriginals. They are usually stone-drunk by 10am, but most of them are genuinely friendly people. When they order a beer I always get a big picket-fence smile with a few slats missing. They will drink until they run out of money or I kick them out for stumbling around. One day a guy passed out on the toilet and I had to wake him up. These are our customers.

During one of my last shifts I was clearing some glasses for a table of Aboriginals and one of them spoke to me in a loud voice, and with a great deal of beer in his speech, "Where's Jesus Christ, boss?"

I've found that when dealing with this kind of crazy that it's best to just go right along with it, so I said, "Dunno, haven't seen him in a while. I'll keep my eyes out for him and let you know if he turns up."

This found a few laughts from his three friends but he was beyond any sense of humor. Just as I was turning to leave he spoke again. "Y'from 'Merica. Who your god, boss?"

This caught me off guard but I thought for a moment and said, "The one with the trident." He quinted his eyes and shook his head slowly.

"You know, Poseidon."

"Dunno 'em. How's ee have you live by?"

I started to walk away, sensing an opportunity to leave, and said to him over my shuolder, "Ebb and flow. Always ebb and flow."

He raised his drink to me as I left, and I decided it would be his last of the night.

I'll miss those kinds of people and those types of questions. The on'es you can't predict. BUt it's time to go. And so it seems appropriate that the last bit of flotsam to be spit from the Crown, the last person I'll throw out on the street, will be me. At least I think so. Continuous motion. Goddamn right.

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