The Best Possible Description Of My Hostage Situation.

This was written by a room mate of mine on his blog:

Sunday, January 20, 2008

Held For Ransom

Last Friday night I ended up staying in with Ben. We watched this very bizarre documentary here, here, and here
It is a strange documentary mostly for its appallingly misleading take on libertarian philosophy and its omissions of truth when dealing with game theory. Mostly, it tries hard to hide its idiotic Marxist critique but gets too carried away and reveals itself. Anyway, I didn't have any money so we drank tea instead of beer and argue about the extent of US culpability for the Khmer Rouge regime in Cambodia.

I wake up the next day and Beth tells me what I missed:
I don't remember this but a few weeks ago Sean, the closet monster, trashed a bar with some "buddies" and went on their merry way, leaving a wake of destruction.

Fast forward to last Friday night. The usual gang is drinking in a Herna during the early hours of the morning. In walks the bartender who was presiding over the bar that was trashed by Sean. He is with his friends and they recognize Sean and grab him by the throat. Beth says they were focused entirely on Sean and ignored everyone else. The bartender explained, in very good English, he was forced to pay for the damages which totaled 5,000 Kr (about $600). This is a huge amount of money for a Czech person- average bartending wage is 60kr an hour. Thus arises an interesting question: what exactly was he doing when Sean and his friends were fucking up the bar? Not paying attention? Helpless because he was outnumbered? The bartender informs the lad that unless he gets his money back now, they will beat him half to death and call more friends to help.

Here is the problem. The bartender is in the right. If a bunch of foreigners trashed my bar, I would want to kill him to. Besides, Sean is sort of stinky...like warm garbage. By now, I think the situation had sunk though Sean's immensely dense cranium and he was scared to be sure. My friends, though they sympathized with the legitimate beef of the bartender started to panic. Beth told Sean that he better call those other guys to help him. As it turned out, Sean's friends were actually tourists who had fucked off to Greece since then. Beth threatened to call the police but he laughed in her face because "they were his friends."

Mike agreed to go get the money and caught a taxi back home to get the money. The bartender gave him I think a 30 minute deadline. He asked the taxi driver to drive fast because he needed to get ransom money. The taxi driver took this with the stride of someone who deals with this situation on a regular basis. Meanwhile, back in the bar Beth snuck into the bathroom and called the police. When they arrived they stayed for about 45 seconds: long enough to walk up to the bar and ask the (on the job right now) bartender if there was a problem. The bartender shrugged and said no. The police walked out. The bartender holding Sean became very angry and demanded to know who called the police but then his focused went quickly back to Sean. Sean, understandably, was shitting his pants.

Fortunately Mike arrived in the nick of time with the money and the angry Czechs let him go-seemingly content that their demands were met. I say seemingly because they shadowed my friends at the next two bars they went to. At Bombay, they were literally buying victory drinks with Mike's money standing next to Mike.

Sean claims that at least one of them was connected to the Russian mob but it seems like he was just a regular Czech bartender who was royally pissed off about getting fucked over by some foreigner. This reminds me of my similar experience here two years ago when we were running from an inflated tab and my roommate got his nose broken by the gigantic bartender (though my friend had been looking for a fight all night long). Sean owes Mike more than just the 5,000 plus taxi ride (which I imagine was expensive)- he owes him the equivalent of two plus pints of blood and spending months in a variety of casts. Did Sean sort of deserve that for what he did? Probably. Were my friends sympathetic to the bartender's argument? Definitely. But who wants to spend Saturday morning in a hospital?

Thanks for letting me post this dude.

Gimme An "F"

Well its either that or "The Cockroaches".

Dan (the Drummer) is the man behind the cockroaches.
Ollie and Me are up for Gimmie A "Fuck".

This is my new band.

Enjoy.

The Bartender

अ हिडेन मेस्सेगे तो ठोस व्हो करे

इफ यू कैन रीड थिस थें यू अरे अ बेत्टर मन थान इ ऍम,
व्व्व।कोफ़्फ़ेय१३५.बेबो.कॉम

हवे अ निस डे

Out with the old, In with the spew

So i went to a friends house for new years, and of course that sister of mine just had to come along too. Deadly.

The evening started out with myself and Aaron driving around preparing to get some booze and smokes; "Hey man what are you drinking?" I asked him to which he replies "Eh... that one with the white label" "What Stella!?" "No man, the non-alco one". Now this meant Beck's a shit tasting, pointless beer brewed by what I can only imagine as Spinster ladies milking their numerous cats and mixing it with the oldest hops and selling it for a fortune. So in the end he got his 6 becks.
I got 20 bottles of miller. I got VERY drunk. And fell over ALOT. Heres how:

So we arrive at Garry's and of course yer man over here is the first one with a beer open and a fag in his mouth. So on go the tunes and out goes the sense, no really its fifteen minutes into the session and my sister, the young one, the 14 year old one, has already conquered 5 normal sized Bulmers and is flirting with Aaron, my best friend, the 18 year old one, who is about 3/4's of the way through a Beck's Non-alcoholic beer.

Then they try to play a joke on me with a photo of my mate and my sister getting a bit intimate to witch (remember at this stage I'm on maybe 9 bottles and feeling a bit tired and emotional) I freekout a bit and get really pissed off.

I then proceed to drink myself into a complete mess, It was lovely.
Last thing I remember: "Hey man yooooooouuuuuugggggeeeehhhhrr swwwwaaaaaying" To which i reply "Fuck off! mumble mumble mumble". And then I Fell over for the first time.

When i come to, I'm lying on the couch and one of the girls comes over and i have a rather sober conversation with her, probably about anything but me.(at this point im covered in whipped cream, a strip of bacon on my face and cellotape all over me) So then i go to the fridge for a Drink of water.

Picture this; In a mess, fridge open, eyes moving between a bottle of water, good olde water, or a bottle of southern comfort.
The whiskey wins.

So after this bottle of southern comfort Im lost as to what happened, but here are a list of things that DID happen as a direct result of this: (Pause writing, lighting a smoke)

1) I got sick alot (Helped by a nice motherly figure, a hot friend of Garrys mom. Thanks Honey)

2) I fell over alot (Helped by a good healty nite of drinking, nice enough, But no thank you)

3) I walked in to a Taxi ( The door, not inside, I may have fractured my nose)

4) I lay on the ground outside a shop untill my father passed and saw me (Fuck. Fuck.)

5) I thought he was a taxi driver nice enough to lend a helping hand. (I will never live this down)

6) I was in an absolute mess. (Yea i know)


So all in all a very good nite here are some photos:









This all happened because I lost my fucking passport and couldn't fly back to Prague.

Any way, Happy new year, The Bartender.

Session In Irsko

So im in ireland for christmas and its St. Stephens' Day (Boxing Day for the brits and the day after christmas day for everyone else).

Im going to be on the otherside of the bar tonight. For a longtime. This will either be great or a big mistake.

I've been informed that Amy, my 14 year old sister will be in my resposible hands tonight. Resposilbe i cant even spell the fucking word, and all i want to do is go out and get inebriated.

Also today i got some photos of me and my little sister, shes two and i missed her so much.
Anyway i have to go and take a filthy shite now.
Chow,

The Bartender (on the right side of the bar tonight)

This Is Where I Spend Everyday

This is Vaclavske Namesti, the place I spend or should i say where i spend most nights underneath working.

Wenceslas Square is a tourist destination for shopping, drinking and Sex. Its a dive of a place with beautiful surroundings. I despise the street only because its lined with fucking gypsys trying to sell you a trip to a Cabaret Club. Also the Prostitutes with more STD's than a witches cunt and the Gypos selling "Marijunana" And "Hashish".

Oh By the Way Happy Christmas.

I Am 18

I live in a shoebox sized room and get people drunk for money; Hence to say I am a bartender. I am an irish man living in the czech republic. I sleep all day and work all night. This my blog.

Remember this about me; I deteste stag partys but I love hot women in my bar.

From this point the bar will be known as "Emereld".

Enjoy,
The Tender