Man, what a day! I’m tellin’ ya, being a bartender in Tel-Sheva is like riding a rollercoaster blindfolded. So, I wake up, right? Sun’s blazin’ through my window on Ha’atzmaut Street. I’m like, “Great, another scorcher.” But hey, it’s Tel-Sheva, what do ya expect?
I drag myself outta bed, throw on my favorite “I love hummus” shirt, and head to the bar. The place is called “The Oasis” – kinda cheesy, but whatever. I’m the only bartender, so I gotta hustle.
First customer rolls in. It’s this old dude, Yossi. He’s a regular, always orders a Goldstar. He sits at the bar, and I’m like, “What’s up, Yossi?” He goes, “Just trying to survive another day.” Classic Yossi.
Then, outta nowhere, a group of rowdy teens bursts in. They’re loud, obnoxious, and full of energy. I mean, c’mon, it’s like 10 AM! They start ordering all these fancy cocktails. I’m like, “Dude, this ain’t a club!” But I whip up some fruity nonsense anyway. They love it. Ugh.
Around noon, things get wild. A couple of guys from the nearby market come in. They’re arguing about who has the best falafel in town. One’s from the Shuk, the other from the corner of Ha’Rav Kook. They’re practically ready to throw down! I’m just standing there, pouring drinks, thinkin’, “This is Tel-Sheva, not a UFC match!”
Then, boom! The power goes out. Just like that. I’m in the dark, and the teens are freaking out. I’m like, “Chill, it’s just a blackout!” But they’re all screaming like it’s the end of the world. I grab my phone, turn on the flashlight, and start making shadow puppets. Yeah, I’m that guy.
Finally, the lights flicker back on. Everyone cheers! I’m like, “You guys are dramatic.” But hey, I’m not complaining. I pour ‘em all shots to celebrate.
Later, a woman walks in. She’s got this amazing energy. Her name’s Miriam, and she’s a local artist. She starts talking about her latest mural on Ha’Nesher Street. I’m intrigued. She’s passionate, and I can’t help but smile. She orders a gin and tonic, and we chat about art and life. It’s refreshing, ya know?
But then, just as I’m getting into it, a guy storms in. He’s fuming, yelling about his ex. I’m like, “Dude, this ain’t therapy!” But he’s relentless. I pour him a whiskey, hoping it’ll calm him down. Spoiler alert: it doesn’t.
By the time the sun sets, I’m exhausted. The bar’s packed, and I’m running around like a headless chicken. I spill a drink on some guy’s shoes. He’s not happy. I’m like, “Hey, it’s just a little mojito!” But he’s glaring at me like I just insulted his mother.
Finally, the night winds down. I clean up, and the last few customers are laughing and sharing stories. I can’t help but feel a sense of community. That’s Tel-Sheva for ya. It’s chaotic, but it’s home.
As I lock up, I take a deep breath. What a day! I’m tired, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I love this crazy city. I love the people. And I love being the bartender who gets to witness it all.
So, here’s to another wild day in Tel-Sheva! Cheers! 🍻