My father encouraged me to learn how to juggle at a very young age and I caught on extremely quickly. Before long I could juggle three and four balls in a variety of manners with a few tricks thrown in for show. I discovered I had exceptional dexterity, reflexes, and eye-to-hand coordination. Flair bartending would come naturally if I put my mind to it and practiced a little. But why would I do that? I am a bartender…not a fucking circus monkey. My specialties and interests are speed, cocktail knowledge, and making beverages with a genuine love and care…not performing random theatrical acts in an attempt to impress people. Who the fuck cares? Would you give a shit if the chef who was cooking your omelette started juggling the eggs before they went in the frying pan? So tonight…right in the middle of the rush…with a full bar…Steve decided to try his hand at some basic flair. He flipped a bottle of Bacardi and missed it entirely. In dramatic fashion…and as if time was slowed down…the bottle bounced off the bar mats a few times and smashed loudly against the beer cooler…shattering into a thousand pieces. He received a standing ovation from the patrons for his antics and I enjoyed a rare moment watching Steve…who consistently has a flawless game…drop the balltle. Of course, after forty years of growing webs between his toes, Steve recovered gracefully from the incident. He bowed, produced a wry smile, and pointed over in my direction exclaiming that he was just reiterating to me…his mere protege…why we don’t practice flair at this particular bar. The master if misdirection. Now everyone was looking and laughing over at me as if somehow I was responsible. Fucker. I could have caught that bottle with my eyes closed. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P6Eg2g-egWo Tricks are for kids.
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