Gun Shots In Ceiling Over Waitress

Posted: January 3, 2012 in Uncategorized
Tags: , , , , , ,


I was once a cocktail waitress who, with the exception of one time, never dated patrons. The only reason I dated that particular patron was because the guy had the best line of anybody I’d ever met. “I have ghosts in my house. Want to go out with me?”

It worked, but only with him, and only once. I preferred dating guys in bands that played at the bar because they were transient and I wouldn’t have to cultivate any long-term relationships with them. Besides I was in love with somebody else and until he came to his senses, I would continue to enjoy my dates with these temporary guys.

As the bands came and went and came back again, I continued to date my favorite guy from each band when they were in town. In only one band, however, did I date the roadie, knowing that one of the band members was also interested in me. Though I clearly stated my intentions to date only one of them, the bass guitarist was equally clear in his intentions that HE would be the one dating me.

As the band was clearing out one weekend, I sat in the van outside the lounge waiting for my roadie to return. I heard what I thought was a car backfiring twice as I waited, but thought nothing more of it.

When the roadie finally emerged from the bar, he sped off and told me he had just been in a brawl with the bass guitarist. Why? The bass guitarist felt the roadie had taken what was supposed to belong to him – me.

“There are two bullet holes in the ceiling,” he said, “because of you.”

Wow, I was part of my own Western movie. Well, naturally, I didn’t believe him until I went to work the following Monday and was fired from my job for being involved in a shootout that caused structural damage to the bar. There, in the ceiling, quite obviously, were two bullet holes.

Fortunately my waitress buddies (one of whom has remained one of my dearest friends) stepped forward on my behalf. After all, I wasn’t even in the bar when the argument took place.

Those days are long gone. Over the years I dated a bunch of men, usually only once. The majority of them turned out to be alcoholics and drug abusers, a few were obsessive types, and one apathetic individual was an alcoholic and a drug abuser – a perfect life mate choice for me.

When that divorce ended, I dated more alcoholics and drug abusers and was just about to give up on dating when one of the women who worked with me told me a guy she knew was interested in me. Tired of dating my usual lot of losers, I peeked through the doorway, and thought, “Hmm, I am not the least bit attracted to him; therefore he must be perfect for me.”

So we went on a couple of dates, but I could sense that something was amiss. Just before what would have been our third date, he called to ask me a favor – “Would you mind telling my wife that we never slept together?”

Well, there you go. Something was not amiss. Someone was a Mrs.

But hey, no problem. It was true. We hadn’t slept together, so I didn’t have a problem telling her the truth. What were the chances that she would actually appear on my doorstep anyway? 

She knocked on my door while he leaned sheepishly against his car in my driveway. I closed the door behind me and stood with her on my patio. After she quizzed me and I responded to her questions, she looked me straight in the eye and told me she believed me. She said that for some reason, she felt she should thank me. I wasn’t prepared for that. Before I could absorb that comment, she went on to cry, “You have no idea how difficult it is to be married to a crack addict.”

I honestly can’t remember what she said after that. I was too busy lifting my chin off the pavement. But yes, that’s the kind of guy I attract, and that is why, with a couple of exceptions, I haven’t dated since 1995.

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  1. Beth says:

    My second sister has pretty much this same story (well, except for the whole shooting thing!). I told her long ago that if she ever wanted to date again, she should let me choose the guy. She agreed.

  2. What a shame too. It seems like the great gals always get stuck with losers somehow. I loved the line “Something was a Mrs.” LOL!

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