Man, what a day! I’m tellin’ ya, being a bartender in Alness is like riding a rollercoaster blindfolded. One minute you’re chillin’, the next you’re dodging flying drinks. So, let’s rewind to this morning.
I woke up late, of course. Alarm? What alarm? I scrambled outta bed, threw on my “I love Alness” tee, and bolted out the door. The sun was shining, and I thought, “Hey, today might be alright.” Spoiler alert: it wasn’t.
First stop, the bar on High Street. It’s a cozy little joint, you know? The kind of place where everyone knows your name, and if they don’t, they’ll make up a nickname for ya. I walk in, and the smell of stale beer hits me like a brick. Ugh.
So, I’m behind the bar, pouring pints of Belhaven and serving up some cheeky cocktails. Then, outta nowhere, a group of rowdy lads from the rugby club stroll in. They’re loud, they’re boisterous, and they’re definitely not here for a quiet pint. They start chanting some ridiculous song about the “Alness Alligators” or whatever. I mean, come on, we’re not even near a swamp!
Then, just as I’m trying to keep my cool, this one guy, let’s call him “Rugby Dave,” spills his drink all over the bar. I’m like, “Mate, really? You’re gonna make me clean that up?” But he just laughs it off, and I can’t help but chuckle too. It’s hard to stay mad when you’re surrounded by that much energy.
Later, I get a surprise visit from Mrs. MacLeod. She’s a sweet old lady who lives on Seaforth Road. She comes in every Thursday for her gin and tonic. Today, though, she’s got a wild look in her eye. Turns out, she just won the bingo at the community center! She’s waving her ticket like it’s a golden ticket to Willy Wonka’s factory. I’m so happy for her! I mean, who doesn’t love a good bingo win?
But then, just as I’m pouring her drink, the fire alarm goes off. Seriously? In the middle of Mrs. MacLeod’s celebration? Everyone starts panicking, and I’m just standing there like, “What do I do?!” I grab a bottle of gin and run outside. Priorities, right?
Outside, it’s chaos. People are milling about on the street, and I spot my mate, Jamie, who works at the chip shop down the road. He’s got a plate of chips in one hand and a can of Irn-Bru in the other. I shout, “Jamie! You’re supposed to be working!” He just shrugs and says, “Fire drill, mate!” Classic Jamie.
After a while, the fire brigade shows up. Turns out, it was just a false alarm. Phew! I head back inside, and the vibe is all off. Mrs. MacLeod’s still buzzing, but the rugby lads are now sulking in a corner. I guess they were hoping for a wild night, not a fire drill.
As the night rolls on, I’m pouring drinks like a machine. I’ve got a regular on the bar, old Mr. Thompson, who’s always got a story about the “good old days.” He starts talking about the time he saw a seal in the river. I’m like, “Dude, that’s cool, but I’m trying to serve drinks here!” But I can’t help but listen. Alness has its charm, you know?
By the end of the night, I’m exhausted. I’m wiping down the bar, and I can’t help but think about how wild today was. From rugby chants to bingo wins to fire alarms, it’s all part of the Alness experience.
As I lock up, I take a moment to breathe in the night air. The stars are out, and the streets are quiet. I think about how lucky I am to be part of this crazy little community. Alness may be small, but it’s got a big heart.
And that, my friends, is just another day in the life of a bartender in Alness. Cheers!