It’s said that the oldest profession in the world is prostitution, but these stories aren’t about that. These stories involve the world’s second oldest profession, being a bartender. Bartenders have been around for as long as mankind have learned how to make booze to dull effects of ones sins but how the truth often comes out with a few under the belt. In my opinion however, they’ve also been known as counselors, lonely hearts advisors, lovers lament ear drains and that good old shoulder to cry on and on rare occasions, we are more then 3 or 4 heads faster then a wise man.

If you’ve been a bartender long enough, you start to realize that you’ve heard it all. Stories of one night stands, emotional breakdowns, cheaters and cheat’s and confessions. People go to the bar more often then they go to church which is why people after confessing their sins to the bartender and having enough nectar of the gods, end up praying to the patron saint of the bar, the porcelain god. ah, blessed is the victors themselves as equal to the thieves at the holy bar. So many fall to their knees vowing never again and gods oath etc. Yet next week will be back rather then go to their local pastor or minister and so on. why?

This story involves the author who has had experience bartending and has heard all these stories so this will be a different kind of story, one that breaks the forth wall and addresses the audience directly. Some of these stories are from first hand experience, thefts, blue collar office fraud, criminal case law hi-jix and others, however are stories I’ve heard from other bartenders that I consider friends and have let me into their world and told me their stories.

The setting for this takes place in a kind of bar that you may think of. On the outside it looks like your regular upper establishment businessmen’s bar. On the inside are polished tables for you to order your after office, a bar to sit at and watch the races or sport (did I mention this was a gay bar?) or the local show girls team. You of course have the regular patrons and the passerby’s who are sitting their checking their phones, or talking with the person next to them. However, first and foremost you have your bartender, your counselor and, dare I say, your priest if you catch my meaning, ah the confessional or confidant moe’s the word, yeh?

It’s a confidentiality thing but I think you get the idea; then cease the hangover complaints later, and desist me as not your carer or minder as I am not responsible for any issues you may run into.

Thanks for reading this and enjoy! be careful who you drink with and what you confess in the early hours of drunken stupor.

ps. I hope to get promoted to another finer establishment in management for an international hotel one day and then you see a whole new ball game of confessionals with all the dirty linen as well.