I am reluctant to continue this employment series, especially when it comes to talking about Good Time Charley's. The looming campus bar still plays a more major part in my life than I would like to admit. I've decided to discuss it, as briefly as I can, but I'm thinking this will be the last post on the employment subject for now. It is difficult to reflect on such recent jobs as Grizzly Peak and HelpSource when their impact is still current.
Anyway. Charleys. Chucks. GTC. My life changed forever when I walked in the door for the first time. I was interviewed and hired on the spot (this lackadaisical hiring practice would haunt me for years while I trained people who had zero qualifications), and I later became Head Server and made tons and tons of money which I have since spent on beer and pizza. All of this is inconsequential.
I started to get to know some really crazy people who worked at Charley's, most of them bartenders at the time. I started to party with them a little. It was pretty fun, so I started partying with them a lot. Every night. All previous friendships and other relationships were destroyed by this new, exciting life of alcohol and... other things.
(Let us pause here to say: I have many, many photo albums filled with pictures of those drunken nights. Friends going into politics will be blackmailed.)
If not for the remaining companionship of many of the people who I met through Charley's, I might be bitter about how much it weaved and shaped my life from that fateful hiring date (I might be a little bitter anyway, but it's not too bad). Thank goodness that Charley's delivered some of the most precious people in my life to me. For that reason, I am eternally grateful.
It's also still pretty sweet to chill in one of Ann Arbor's best outdoor cafes and see who can drink the most of those massive long islands. Mmmm.... long islands...
I'll be at Charley's.
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2 comments:
Reminds me of the first time I went to Good Time Charlie's. I had just graduated from UM, and was walking down South U, right by GTC. I encountered a guy I had known from high school, who happened to be named Charlie. He offered to buy me a drink. I got a White Russian. Best drink I ever had.
One of the coolest people I ever met at Charley's was named Charlie, too. And they do make a mean white russian.
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