Man, what a day! I’m tellin’ ya, being a bartender in Souda is like riding a rollercoaster blindfolded. One minute you’re chillin’, the next you’re dodging flying olives. Seriously, it all started when I opened up the bar on Kallergidon Street. The sun was shining, the sea was glistening, and I thought, “Today’s gonna be a breeze.” Ha! Famous last words, right?
So, I’m behind the bar, mixing up some cocktails, when this group of tourists rolls in. They’re loud, like, obnoxiously loud. I mean, I get it, you’re on vacation, but c’mon! They start ordering all these fancy drinks. “I’ll have a mojito, no mint, extra lime!” Like, what even is that? I’m just trying to keep up, and my brain’s like, “Dude, chill.”
Then, outta nowhere, this guy trips over his own feet. I swear, he goes flying, and his drink goes splashing everywhere. I’m talkin’ about a full-on tidal wave of piña colada. It hits me right in the face! I’m soaked, sticky, and now I smell like a tropical vacation gone wrong. I’m fuming, but I can’t help but laugh. The dude’s face was priceless.
After that chaos, I needed a breather. So, I step outside for a sec, and man, the view from the harbor is just stunning. You can see the mountains in the background, and the water’s this beautiful shade of blue. It’s moments like these that remind me why I love Souda. But then, I hear this commotion down by the waterfront.
Turns out, there’s a local fisherman trying to sell his catch. He’s yelling, “Fresh fish! Best in Crete!” I’m like, “Dude, I’m a bartender, not a fishmonger!” But I can’t resist. I wander over, and he’s got these massive fish, glistening in the sun. I’m thinking, “I could whip up a killer ceviche with that!”
So, I buy a couple of fish, and I’m feeling like a culinary genius. I head back to the bar, ready to impress my customers. But guess what? The tourists are still there, and they’ve somehow multiplied. Now there’s a whole crew of them, and they’re all trying to order at once. It’s like a scene from a bad comedy.
I’m juggling drinks, trying to remember who ordered what, and then I hear someone shout, “Where’s my drink?” I turn around, and it’s this lady, looking all kinds of furious. I’m like, “Lady, I’m one person! I can’t be everywhere at once!” But I just smile and say, “Coming right up!”
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, I get everyone their drinks. I’m sweating like a pig, but I’m also kinda proud. I mean, I survived the tourist invasion! Just when I think I can catch my breath, the power goes out. Yup, just like that. The whole bar goes dark.
I’m standing there, in the pitch black, and I can hear the tourists freaking out. “What’s happening?!” “Is this part of the experience?” I’m like, “Nope, just Souda being Souda.” I grab my phone, turn on the flashlight, and start pouring drinks by the glow of my screen. It’s ridiculous, but somehow, it’s also kinda fun.
After a while, the power comes back on, and everyone cheers. I’m just relieved I didn’t burn the place down. The night rolls on, and I’m finally starting to wind down. I’m cleaning up, and this local guy, Nikos, comes in. He’s a regular, always has a joke or two. He says, “You survived the day, my friend! You deserve a drink!”
I laugh and pour us both a shot of raki. We clink glasses, and I’m just grateful. Grateful for the chaos, the laughter, and the crazy moments that make Souda feel like home.
As I close up the bar, I can’t help but think about tomorrow. Who knows what’s gonna happen? But one thing’s for sure: I wouldn’t trade this life for anything. Souda, you wild, beautiful beast, you’ve got my heart.