Flip Cup
I know I’m getting old when I have to google drinking games. I first heard about Flip Cup when the kickball league brought it into O’ Brien’s. I didn’t really pay much attention to the game, I would just pass by the long table of competitors and try and avoid any sort of contact, lest their b.o. rub off on me. The kickball presence has dwindled, but the Santa Monica Women’s Rugby team brought flip cup back to the bar for a one night only tournament.
Friday night, Gator pointed out that the tags on my car were expired. I didn’t remember paying my registration fees; in fact, I don’t remember receiving them. When I got home, I rifled through my files, which is a small stack of dusty papers on the corner of my desk. Nothing. I woke up Saturday and called AAA. They asked me my license plate number and I was stumped. For some reason, I remember the license plate on my Mom’s 1977 Cadillac Seville, 513 WGP, but I don’t know mine. I threw on my good robe and trudged down to the garage. I got the requisite paper work and AAA informed me that I needed a smog check from a “smog check only” place, then I had to pay a hundred and fifty-six dollars in fees on my hundred and sixty-two dollar car. First of all, I don’t know which lobbyist blew which state senator to implement the “smog check only” law, but what’s the difference in smog check places? After getting this done, I hauled ass to AAA to pay my fees, only to find that they’re closed on Saturday. D’ oh. I needed food before going home so I stopped off at Subway. Who ever thought of the five dollar foot long is a genius. If they sold it as a dollar-twenty off, no one would care, but they have a constant line at every one of these sub-par sandwich shops, because of this magic price point.
I walked into work early only to find the end of the urban iditarod. Last year’s iditarod was the biggest pub crawl I’ve ever seen. A year and a week ago, I was warned that there would be a hundred people crawling to our bar. I got coffee at the Novel Cafe, went to the store to get some smokes, and then I saw them. They were a column of drunken revelers, hundreds of them, pushing shopping carts, hence, the iditarod. The security cameras show me passing our entrance, then immediately turning around, and darting into the bar. A minute later, about three hundred people followed me in. Our occupancy is around one-eighty. We ended up closing at six for an hour, just to reset. The police shut down Main Street. Click here to check out pictures from it. I only caught the tail end of it this year. I can only assume it wasn’t nearly the size, since we stayed open. Unlike evolution, where humankind progresses, those left at the end of a pub crawl are a mere three I.Q. points from retarded. (And it’s anyone’s guess which side of retarded their I.Q.’s lie.) This is what I began my shift with. Lucky for me, there was a double rugby party of sorts. First, the men played a team from San Diego; and, also, the women were having their Flip Cup tournament.
During my brief stint of collegiate rugby, I learned about boat races, which are essentially, beer relays. Flip Cup works the same way except after a drinker finishes their beer, they must set the cup on the table and flip it so it lands upside down. Personally, I’ve never understood drinking games. Invariably, the goal is to get the other person to drink, while the only dope smoking game I’ve played, Zonk (I’m shocked it’s on Wikipedia,) makes the goal for you to smoke. In any case, the Women’s Rugby team locked up the back room for their tournament. For those keeping score at home, you’ll remember, last week we threw a rugby party but no one showed. Leaving me alone with a steam tray full of bangers is never a good thing. This week, because of a miscommunication, the party showed up, but there was no food for them. But, guess what? They did alright with beer. It’s Saturday at six p.m., I’ve got the tail end of the iditarod, the Men’s Rugby team post party, and the Women’s Rugby team Flip Cup tournament in the back. It was a perfect storm. Pretty much everyone was well behaved, with the exception of the remaining iditarod dip shits. No matter who I chose to stop serving, they would end up with a drink in their hands. It was futile. Alas, I never did see the Flip Cup tournament, but some of the women were jockeying to carry the pitchers of beer into the back room. I’m not sure why, but they were obsessed with wanting to look like they were doing their jobs. They would never last as employees here.
The Flip Cup tournament ended, but many of the Rugby players stuck around. After my dinner break, it seemed to slow down, but that didn’t last long. It didn’t seem as crowded as the night before, but people were far more serious about drinking. There were groups of adults, who knew what they wanted, ordered, paid quickly, and tipped well, essentially, dream customers. At the end of the night, I looked at the totals and it was the third super busy Saturday in a row. And if last year was any indication, next Saturday, because it’s just before St. Patrick’s Day, will be four in a row. Actually, if last year is any indication, it will be flat out insane. I have no idea who won the drinking tournament; but, seriously, does anyone ever lose when they play Flip Cup?
