Man, what a day! I’m tellin’ ya, being a bartender in Crosby can be a wild ride. So, I roll into work at The Crown, right? It’s on the corner of Moor Lane and Liverpool Road. The sun’s barely up, but the vibe is already buzzing. I’m thinkin’, “Today’s gonna be chill.” Spoiler alert: it wasn’t.
First off, I spill a pint of lager all over the bar. Classic me. It’s like I’m magnetically attracted to messes. The regulars are laughin’ at me, and I’m just like, “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up!” But deep down, I’m fumin’. I mean, c’mon, it’s just a pint, right? But it’s the principle!
Then, outta nowhere, this old bloke, Mr. Jenkins, comes in. He’s a legend around here, always talkin’ about the good ol’ days. He starts ramblin’ about how Crosby used to be a fishing village. I’m like, “Yeah, mate, I get it. But have you seen the new coffee shop on Coronation Road?” He just stares at me like I’m speakin’ Martian.
Anyway, the place starts fillin’ up. It’s a Saturday, so you know how it goes. People are spillin’ in from the beach, all sandy and sunburnt. I’m tryin’ to keep up with orders, but it’s like a scene from a movie. I’m pourin’ drinks, takin’ cash, and dodgin’ the occasional flying peanut. Seriously, who throws peanuts?
Then, this group of lads from Liverpool strolls in. They’re loud, obnoxious, and think they own the place. One of ‘em, I swear, he orders a cocktail with a name I can’t even pronounce. I’m like, “Mate, this is Crosby, not Ibiza!” But I whip it up anyway. Gotta keep the peace, right?
And then, bam! The fire alarm goes off. I’m thinkin’, “Great, just what I need.” Everyone’s lookin’ around like deer in headlights. I’m shoutin’, “Get out! It’s not a drill!” But half of ‘em are still tryin’ to finish their drinks. I mean, priorities, right?
Once we’re outside, I spot the old church on the corner of St. John’s Road. It’s beautiful, really. But I’m too stressed to appreciate it. I’m just hopin’ the fire brigade doesn’t show up and make me look like a total idiot. Turns out, it was just a false alarm. Phew!
Back inside, the vibe’s shifted. People are chattin’, laughin’, and I’m feelin’ a bit better. Then, this lovely couple comes in, all smiles. They’re on their honeymoon, and they want a bottle of bubbly. I’m like, “You two are in the right place!” I pour ‘em a glass, and they toast to love. It’s sweet, really. Makes me think about my own love life—or lack thereof.
As the night rolls on, I’m startin’ to feel it. The energy’s electric. I’m mixin’ drinks, crackin’ jokes, and even doin’ a little dance behind the bar. The crowd’s lovin’ it. I mean, who knew I had moves?
But then, just when I think it’s all smooth sailin’, a fight breaks out. Two blokes, both too drunk to stand straight, start shovin’ each other. I’m like, “Not in my bar, lads!” I jump in, tryin’ to separate ‘em. It’s chaos! I’m shoutin’, “You wanna take this outside?”
Finally, I manage to get ‘em out the door. The bouncers take over, and I’m left breathin’ heavy. I lean against the bar, thinkin’, “What a day!”
By the time I close up, I’m exhausted but happy. Crosby’s got its quirks, for sure. The streets, the people, the stories—they all make it worth it. I walk home along the beach, the waves crashin’ against the shore. It’s peaceful.
So yeah, that was my day. Full of ups and downs, but that’s life, innit? Just another day in Crosby, where the unexpected is always around the corner.