Boy howdy do I love a Sunday
@basikbrooklyn sometimes even enough to stop in three times in a day. “I’ll leave your tab open.” Not a question, just
@russelldillon ensuring that I’d return. When my work scheduled shifted into being on the road three, sometimes four weeks out of the month I knew I would at least make it to bā’sik every Sunday. If I was running a little late to grab my seat at the bar Russ would text me, not out of concern for my well being or my possible abduction, but because he had to use the facilities and needed me to tend bar for ten to fifteen minutes so he could catch up on the news.
Sunday would make me the closest I will ever be to a strict religious follower. Sunday I’d roll solo or with a jolly crew consisting of the bartenders or the regulars of
@leslieslounge and most Sunday would start with taking the Snaiquirament (IYKYK.) I cannot count the amount of twenties I have taken out of the ATM in front of bā’sik, nor would I want to know the answer, but it is a lot.
Dice games would grow quickly from three or four close friends up to a baker’s dozen filled with strangers that were becoming new friends (until they won on the third push and then fuck that new friend forever, they better do the right thing and buy the bar a round of tequila shots!) If you know Russ, this sappy long winded post probably isn’t surprising. I am crying on the toilet writing this while I am supposed to be getting ready to tend bar myself, but I felt like I needed to get some of this out before throwing on my normal bar face for the evening.
Holy shit. There is limit on how long these posts can be? I’ll do my best to sum this up. When your bestfriend works a double every Sunday, you get spoiled rotten. I’d forget Russ was my bestfriend because he is such a solid barman and I would sometimes just be in awe of it. The way he controls a room, whether it is the music, the surprise shots, the whole bar being an instrument that only he knew how to play, all while holding a baby. I love you Russ.
