It’s A Cruel, Cruel Summer

I had been optimistic about the turnout on bar nights at 202 for the summer, and hadn’t been proven too wrong yet. We haven’t reached Thursday night numbers since the students left, but we’ve had some surprisingly busy evenings. The neat thing about people that stay in Farmville for the summer is that they don’t have to play by the work week’s rules; the money we usually make Thursday, Friday, and Saturday night is distributed throughout the week, minus Sunday and Monday, days in which we are closed.

I was enjoying the calm tide of business at the bar until this week. I’ve been requesting off a lot and changing my availability due to various not-BS reasons; moving, an 8 a.m. stained glass class, my mom visiting from Alaska, and one family vacation. They’re only working one waitress a night, which makes things tough in the first place, but this past week I got, count ’em, one night.

My parents own a business so I could understand the reasoning, even though I wasn’t happy about it. But did that one night have to be a Tuesday?

Tuesday night is open mic night, hosted by Buffalo Creek Guitar Company. It’s usually a good “chill” time, with a nice batch of professors that come out to support the music and eat dinner. The music is soothing, the musicians are talented, and the guys that own Buffalo Creek, good friends of mine, generally tip more than %50 percent.

But the first Tuesday of every month, open mic night is hosted at the Main Street stage (which if you haven’t been to this, you must change that immediately). And so this past week there was no event on Tuesday night, just empty booths and clean floors.

I thought I knew what a dead restaurant looked like until I saw Tuesday night. I worked from 6 – 11:30 p.m. I saw two tables. Thank Bono that I was the only waitress working, otherwise the other waitress and I would have fought over those tables like frat boys over the last two inches of a Natty pitcher.

I washed the baseboards of the dance floor. I wiped down the tops of ketchup bottles. I even cleaned under booths. 

Yes this is mostly just a post of me complaining, but my real message is to please come to the bar. If you are in Farmville, bored, even if you’re not 21, come get a soda pop and some cheese fries. Please? Yes? No?



One response to “It’s A Cruel, Cruel Summer

  1. So this may be my new favorite thing to read

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