The Greatest Bartender in New Orleans
For Jaime
I follow my bartender
wherever she slings drinks.
Over the dozens of years
I have sat and swayed across from her
at Boondock Saint, Jimani, MRB
and now, at her very own joint,
Schooner’s Saloon,
corner of St. Peter and Burgundy.
Her bar is one of good time potions
spilled from taps of tender mercies.
Jaime has saved me more times
then she will ever know—
when my heart was on the rocks,
Christmas Eve lonesome late-nights,
twinkling hazy-eyed Christmas days,
the beginning love affairs of the moment
and the last call of the long-terms.
She offers comfort and care with a smile
and a strong one on the house,
not just to me but my friends,
fellow Quarter Rats,
strangers and service industry sweethearts.
If there was ever a serious candidate
for saint, sinner and savior
it is her.
In the golden age of piracy,
she would be captain.
So, when people get stupid and she yells,
only one person in the bathroom at a time–
and NO coke!
One of y’all best take the stash
and get the fuck out.
This city spills champion bartenders out from
the Lower Ninth to Pigeontown,
Gentilly, Algiers to Mid-city,
the Lower Garden District to Central City,
Seventh Ward, Treme’, Bywater
to the Irish Channel
and every corner in between.
And I love them too,
I truly do,
but Jaime regains the title
each inebriated visit
because even after all this time,
the birthdays, break-ups, blackouts,
strong shots, cold beers and heavy pours
I still never have to wait
for a drink—
even on Mardi Gras day
and that goes
a helluva long way
in these parts.
***
From Happy Hour Heart of New Orleans, Roadside Press
Horror Sleaze Trash 