duke

my favorite bartender is named duke.

actually, i don’t drink or go out enough to truly have a favorite bartender. he is the only bartender i’ve really ever actually spoken to. i haven’t been to the place he works in almost a year.

but duke is great because his name is duke. what other job do you grow up to have when your name is duke? and he is bald. he sings along when the piano player plays a song he likes, in a loud, clear voice, with good pitch. and good rhythm. he sings well and he knows good, sophisticated music. he will make up a drink if i don’t know what to order, which is often, because i don’t know anything about drinks. he will make all types of drinks, not just froufy girly ones. he isn’t sleazy and he doesn’t hit on me. he smiles a lot, and he takes pride in his work.

one night after a particularly long and ballady set of mine—i don’t know, maybe seven or eight songs, which is a lot considering i was a patron and not an employee of the bar—duke asked me about my acting experience. i asked him to please say again because i didn’t think i’d heard him right. he asked again if i was doing any acting anywhere currently. perhaps some musical theatre? i got a kick out of that, but more so out of the look on his face when i told him, “oh, no. i am a doctor. pediatrics.” so after a short stall, he switched gears. duke has a little daughter. i can’t recall if she was four months or four years old, but he really lit up talking about her.

that’s all i have to say about duke.