The George Clooney Story (when I served him at my bar, from "The Best of Guy's Work Blog")

TheWorkingGuy.com ...

So I was thinking about maybe making you wait to buy the book to get this story, BUT just in case there is no book, it's a story that needs to be told, I figure.

BUT there's also a catch : some fairly exhaustive back-story. You really  won't be able to appreciate the first words that came out of my mouth  when I met Mr. Clooney, unless you have the back-story.

(ED NOTE : This is actually the most recent entry - Dec 2014 - from my old blog about waiting tables that I kept ongoing for a couple of years, in both Orlando FL, and Nashville TN. It led to pretty much nothing (except maybe new friends? And lots of practice writing about waiting tables...
Based on the success of my new article "Things Waiters & Waitresses Say, but Shouldn't" I realize that Steemit is the perfect platform to "migrate" my old blog's content to. So again, this is the LAST entry of about 50.... The first will come probably tomorrow or Saturday.. so follow me if you like, and now, back to our story...) 

img : http://wegotthiscovered.com/movies/george-clooney-grant-heslov-produce-english-remake-pioneer/

So about a month before "George Clooney walks into a bar" ...

I'm serving dinner and drinks to these three guys from out of town at  the bar - which was quite normal for me in Roswell NM (at Cattle Baron - it  was "my bar" Mon-Fri 4pm-Close for about seven years, and we had arguably the best hotel in town for business travelers right next door.  We were un-arguably the best place to eat in town, so it turned into a very mutually beneficial relationship). 

And yeah, in whatever inane  chitter-chatter I might've made or overheard with these guys, something  about filming a movie probably came up. That too happens in Roswell (I've been in a few myself). These guys were more in the "scouting out  the town" stage of whatever it was they were into.

So at some point Randy comes in, sits on the other end of the bar, and orders dinner as well. He of course orders "The Millionaire's Steak"  so-named because... Oh haha, I'm getting ahead of myself, and way  off-course.

I do that to you sometimes, on purpose, as a writing technique that I like to imagine adds a touch of personality to my words for ya. You probably  just think I'm rambling, but it's quite intentional. 

It's interesting to  reveal perhaps, that I actually know that a large part of why you like  me is in fairly direct proportion to how well I can genuinely fake authenticity, if that makes sense. You have to get someone to like you,  then make them believe that you care about them - for a short time anyways. I'm only telling you this here and now to convey to you the much larger  truth that you're really paying me to tell you - that this is exactly  what we servers do to you every day (or at least we try, a lot of the  time) for our living. Not all of the time, I'm well aware (more so that  you even) - but most of us do catch on pretty quickly that when it works  well, you do tend to tip us very nicely for it.

Revelations like this could almost make you forget that just moments earlier you were wondering ... 

"Who's Randy?"

Long story short, Randy used to serve and bartend here with me, got  fired, then proceeded to win one-ninth of over $200 million when his  whole family hit the Powerball after buying $180 in lottery tickets at  Randy's niece's third birthday party.

Really.

Randy's  a good regular now, tips okay (20%). I'll tell you about all  that some other time maybe. That would be "The Randy Miller Story"  however, and this is "The George Clooney Story" right?
 

Time passes.

One of my three gentlemen (pictured above) announces his pending early  retirement across the way to his hotel room, and "tabs out" with me. The  other gentlemen order two more drinks. As I'm making them, Randy pops  up with "I recognize him... He's an actor... 

"What's the movie with Arnold Schwarzenegger and Jamie Lee Curtis?"

img : http://smokingbarrels.blog.hu/2014/08/29/a_10_legjobb_akciofilm_a_90-es_evekbol

"True Lies?" I offer.

"Yes!" Randy exclaims. "He was the helicopter pilot who got shot."

Sounded like a long-shot to me actually, that that small of a part could  actually be remembered by Randy after that much time, much less that  the guy would still be recognizable. But just to be congenial, to  continue the volley, and to make conversation (and these are just among  all the other things I do, besides making drinks and serving diners) I  check back with the two guys, leading with 

"Hey my friend made your friend. Says he was a helicopter pilot in True Lies."

"Yeh, he was. Grant Heslov.  He's a producer now."

I act sufficiently impressed enough to pass for sincere, and report back to Randy to offer him his kudos for nailing the mystery guest. And to  check on his steak.

And then, I forgot about it.

Time passes.

The town's all abuzz with the news that George Clooney is somewhere,  filming a scene for some movie. Nobody seems to know the what and the  where, and various local sites are being debated by those pretending they know something about where's the best place to "actually see him"  will be. 

Personally I can't help but pondering the thought "Well we are  right next to the best hotel in town... and we're the best restaurant in  town... everybody winds up here..." while getting ready for work.

It's been a few hours and it's loud. It's busy too, and all the musings  of whom I might see at work tonight are forgotten... lost to the tyranny of the urgent.  I'm constantly prioritizing and re-prioritizing two or three times per  minute, as I accomplish one thing, or something or someone new comes  into the picture suddenly... 

Like that moment when you hate to have to leave the bar for any length  of time, but it's busy all around tonight and it's time for me to go  check on some food I've ordered for a guest that seems to be taking a  moment or two longer than I'd expect, and nobody else is running it out  to me so I need to go check and when I return to being behind the bar  with his still hot food (I have this sense of timing that sometimes just goes off when someone's food is ready, like my own personal  "Spidey-sense" ... it also tingles when I'm being sat and I'm not within  eye-range of the hostess) in my hands, when I do my usual re-entry scan  and notice two new guests, nicely dressed, way down at the end of the  bar so I drop the food off hoping to get away quickly without any  conversation so that I can greet the new guests and hustling over there  and now I'm eye-to-eye with the first of the two guys and "Oh Shit that's George Clooney" 

... looking back at me, and suddenly I have no idea what to do or say.

I don't have a box for this situation in my brain, or know what to do  next. 

If Mr Clooney were an old lady who'd run out of her oxygen I would  know what do to. I've dealt with that before. If he were 99.9% dead and  surrounded by Paramedics on the ground in front of the Salad Bar w herepeople are walking back and forth I could step in, and maybe just do the  same thing I did the last time a man died in front of me at work.

But this isn't those stories. The stories are yet to come. This is the George Clooney story, and this is George Clooney himself now smiling back at  me - and do you know what's more? 

He's looking like he wants to order a  drink...

Okay so wait a sec. 

In that respect he's just like any one of the other countless thousands of people I've made drinks for.

With that, my natural fear of  the unknown abates, and apparently muscle memory (my auto-pilot cruise  mode) takes over. Instinctively, I turn away from Mr. Clooney without speaking, because making eye contact and welcoming ALL new guests is a top priority and so, turning to Mr. Clooney's left / my right, my gaze falls upon the face of a man I've seen only once before.

Now, you and I and Mr. Heslov all know good and well that he and I didn't exactly get down  to a first-name-basis the last time he was here.. not by any means.  Nonetheless, there he is, and suddenly my most immediate problem is  solved.

Beaming, I stretch forth my open right hand to shake his, and even muster the gaul to say... 

"Hi Grant! Thanks for bringing me in some new business."

"Grant" responds by kind of going along with my uber-positive downright salesy vibe for just a second (whew!) ... even shaking my hand maybe just to see where this is going... and so before I lose any momentum, I close the  deal - again on instinct - by saying "What can I get for you?"

Looking back to Mr. Clooney now, I see that he's still turned towards Mr. Heslov with this look that says "Oh, and just how do YOU rate?"

or, "So, you're a bigger shot than me now?" 

It was quite funny, for Improv. Classic George Clooney, I'm sure you can picture yourself it in fact.

Mustering my focus enough to just casually repeat the question, Mr  Clooney requests a Vodka/Cranberry. Still on auto-pilot, I go for the up-sell. He replies drinks Absolut (despite my now half-hearted attempt to ooze my in-character presumption that perhaps a more premium brand would be more appropriate for someone of his stature?

img : http://assets.absolutdrinks.com/drinks/solid-background-black/soft-shadow/floor-reflection/415x655/absolut-cranberry(85).jpg

But he's old-school, and apparently not a taker when it comes to these new upstarts like Kettle 1 or Grey Goose.

"Yes, please" he says to the lime, and I get to slide away from this  first round knowing that I totally nailed it.

Yup, he'll be eating out of my hand from here out...

However, looking back now on the three nights in a row that I served these same gentlemen, I feel rather remiss that I actually don't remember what Mr. Heslov ordered to drink in that moment.

And sure, maybe I came off pretty smooth in that George Clooney moment, but allso looking back, I feel a genuine loss (as a bartender) reporting that two nights later, when Kevin Spacey and Jeff Bridges also came into the  bar (filming a scene for the same movie), I completely FAILED to simply hand Mr. Bridges a White Russian saying

img : https://bevvy.co/articles/how-to-make-a-white-russian-fit-for-the-dude-lebowski/2279

"Here ya are Dude. This one's on me."

I'd say that part of the story is one of my biggest regrets as a  bartender ever. That could be like my "earned your wings" moment, or  "bartender hall of fame" stories for me, if only I had thought more  quickly and seized that moment.... Ah, regrets.....
 

Man, this has been quite a long blog entry, hasn't it?

You're staring at me. What?
 

Three nights I waited on him? 

Well what happened?  What'd he say?  How'd he tip?  Do I remember what he ate?  What's he like?

Details, details.... looks like all of that will have to wait, for what I  guess I'll now have to (quite incorrectly) call "The Grant Heslov  Story."

Perhaps that can be Next, on Guy's Work Blog.

Unless I decide to go with "The Randy Miller Story."
 

Honestly, I never know what's next. 

But YOU can find out "what's next"!  Just follow me! Or proceed now to my other article : 

Things Waiters & Waitresses Say, but Shouldn't
and /or e-mail me GuyMalone "At" ProtonMail.com
for updates on the book "Tip or Stay Home"