Halloween Party

Bartending is always a very strange profession. I see my fair share of office men, lawyers, old people, young kids who don’t know how to drink yet. You know, the works. You get to a point where you can spot them after a while.
This day however, I was bartending a private party. I didn’t have any information about whose party it was other than “the mustang group”, which didn’t make me very happy. The day before Halloween and I gotta bartend to these jerkoffs? A group of guys who all drive tricked out Mustangs. Not that I care that much about holidays or Halloween to begin with. It’s just that I thought these guys were assholes and I knew it was going to be a themed party. That combination seems annoying to even a regular person, hopefully.
I get everything ready behind the bar – cut the limes, carry the ice up the stairs, stock the mich ultra, put out the mats. I put on a solid playlist I think anyone would enjoy. I wait.
They come in slowly, some dressed up, some in work uniforms, some in casual clothes. The main guy’s wife keeps coming up and asking me for things like I know who her husband is.
I sit in the corner for like 5 hours. The only reason anyone stayed is for the raffle they had.
They asked me if I would go up and pick the ticket out of the jar, so I did. I was excited. This was the most action I had all night.
On stage in front of 15 people, I shook the jar with the raffle tickets and did my best Vanna White. And the winner is…….
Nobody in the room. I looked around at their faces, full of disillusion and obligation. Then I went back behind the bar to sit at my post and try to not stare at them. But I did. I watched them and wondered if any of them were as bored as I was. There was an old guy with a big pin on his shirt with trump’s face on it. It read, “Make liberals cry again”. 2020. I thought it was really funny. He asked me if I knew how to make a kamikaze and I was like yeah I can do that. He replied, “I judge people based on their kamikazes.” Which was a very strange thing to say. It’s such a simple shot and such a shitty thing to judge a bartender on. I have my own opinions on judging bartenders though – I mean I hate it. I asked him if he had ever bartended before.
“No, I haven’t, but I’ve poured plenty of these down people’s throats so I know.” It was just such a vaguely creepy thing to say. The wording was so vile. Pour down the throat evokes images that bother me.
They all sat at individual tables, obviously in their own designated groups. They were awkward. Most stayed for the raffle and left. I wondered how that made the main guy feel. I felt bad for him. He put this party together for only a few people to show up, barely get excited, stay for a raffle for like $1500 worth of parts and then leave. I guess they expected an open bar and got pissed when they had to pay for their own drinks. The most boring Halloween party ever.