This Is My Blood: Amstel Light

The following is fiction.

I found myself at Jack's Famous Bar, contemplating what it all meant.

You may be familiar with at least the facade of Jack's Bar. Its neon bar signs beckon you to wallow through the thickets of urban decay at Kensington and Allegheny, to come have a drink. An oasis in the middle of the heroin jungle. I'd never been to Jack's, though I've overlooked its spot on the block from the high subway platform many, many times. It was a good day for a $2 beer. I went inside.

Today was my supervisor's final day at my employment. It was a strange day, to say the least. If you had asked me two months ago, I would've said that there's not a fucking chance that I'll be attending any sort of retirement celebration for this chick. (I already wrote about this.) Me and her, we have irreconcilable differences in how we operate day-to-day. I'm no-bullshit, she's all-bullshit, and I'm too bullheaded to keep quiet about it. At the end of the day, I am glad to see her leave.

But I still went to the brunch. Like we discussed a few weeks ago, sometimes there's a difference between being right and being kind. It would've been right to not go to her retirement brunch. She didn't treat me well as supervisor. I didn't enjoy my two and a half years under her leadership. What was there to celebrate? But being right in this case would've also been dickish. What would've been the point of pointedly skipping the brunch? I would've missed out on a good opportunity for closure, and I would've looked like a completely shitty person to everyone else here who will still be here when the retirement party is over. It would've been excusable to say fuck it, but it would've meant I was a shitty person. There's a fucking difference. Changing is not easy.

And I'll say this—it's a fucking humbling experience to sit there and listen to people praise someone whom you don't necessarily like. I heard things like "you were great at your job" and "you had a welcoming smile" and "you had a great passion for this job," and I didn't agree with any of it. My supervisor was a miserable person who performed her job in a way that directly opposed the way I think one should perform it. Passion? What fucking passion? How do you think she would've reacted if she was the one walking through people passed out on the sidewalk at 3 PM to get to Jack's Bar? Her nose would've been upturned, and my cubiclemates would've heard all about it the next morning, loudly, while I'm trying to blog.

But they all heaped praise on her, and everyone seemed pretty genuine about it. I say that's humbling because then it turns around and becomes a question of: What is wrong with me? I pride myself in being able to see the good in people, and yet here was this person whom I had almost three years to find the good in, and I completely failed. I just couldn't fucking do it.

After the speeches and the plaque presentation and after the eggs and turkey bacon were cleared, people started to mill around. Perhaps on purpose or maybe by accident, I made eye contact with her, so I approached and gave her a hug. Fuck it. "Congrats on your retirement." "Thanks, Joe." "It was... an interesting three years." "Yes, it was." And that was how we left it. So much went unsaid from both of us. I think it's better that way. It's better to leave the negative things unsaid. It's better to just acknowledge and appreciate the fact that we will never have to deal with each other again.

My old supervisor—FUCK it felt good to type the word "old" right there—my old supervisor will probably leave an imprint on me more than either of us will ever admit. It was a valuable experience for me, having someone like that in my life. I think she is an asshole, but so am I, and she challenged me to be better. Or at least made me want to challenge myself to be better.

Something like that. Who knows. Fuck. Anyways, this is what I was thinking about, as I finished my Amstel Light. It was a shitty beer. What better way to celebrate a shitty boss?

NOTES

BEER: Amstel Light

GENRE: American Light Lager

ABV: 3.5%

BREWED BY: Amstel Brouwerij B. V.

LOCATION: Amsterdam, Netherlands

PURCHASED AT: Jack's Famous Bar

PRICE (AT THAT LOCATION): $2 plus tip (it was the special)

PAIRED WITH: being haunted

GRADE: 1 puke out of 5

BEER COUNT: 42.5