April 1st, 2018

Fourth night of a four night run. Here’s where the rubber meets the road. Or in this case, here’s where the foreshadowed shit hits the fan.

So I drop my things in my locker, grab my Fleaflicka, and cut across the parking lot the short way to go head for the bar and the monies. As I’m walking towards the casino floor I hear Charon hailing me from behind. I pause, of course. She looks substantially rattled, which is an odd look for her. She tells me that at some point, management would appreciate it if I’d write up a voluntary statement from last night.

I look puzzled, I presume.

She clarifies that it’s about Jerry the Older.

I continue to look puzzled.

She then goes on to explain to me that at some point last night, Jerry the Older was in a car accident. A fairly bad one. As in broken back, broken nose, flown to a hospital an hour away grade of fairly bad.  Unresponsive some 18 hours later, so.

In short – management wants the bartenders who were on duty (and I’m sure anyone else with info) to document it so that their asses are collectively covered. While that rankles a bit, there’s also some sense to it.  I know that he was fine when -I- served him last and I had no indication from Jerry the Younger that he was in a bad way either. So whether or not the accident was alcohol-related, demonstrating the reasonable effort thing is important and blah blah blah. Still feels shitty though, in some way.

And it’s weird seeing Charon rattled. Thankfully the Sunday bar was steady enough that she pitched in and got her mojo together again without too much hassle.  I wrote up my statement over dinner, and did the shift. They asked if I could cover Jerry the Older’s Monday night shift and I would have, but Jerry the Younger opted to step in and take it instead, so that was good. I need a break anyway after four nights of that.

All in all the night was very long, and not very busy at all, which being Easter was kind of what I’d expected.  Made some outstanding money, though, so…  that’s a good thing, at least.

I’ll update on Jerry the Older’s condition as I know more. No new info at present, however. I’m told a couple of the cocktail girls are going to make the drive and check on him, and I asked them to pass along the good thoughts, and keep me updated, etc.  We’ll see if they do or not.

Closing observations :

• Someone needs to tell Karma that “Dead Man’s Boots” is just a fucking euphamism and lay off our people.
• I like job security as much as the next guy, but not at the expense of a valued co-worker.
• While we’re at the business of personifying intangible concepts, someone tell April Fool’s that it wasn’t fucking funny either.

Next up : Thursday night