It has been brought to my attention that this week’s feature is the 100th “Hal” column of my relatively
young, yet personally disappointing writing career.The fact that I’m still writing it is either a testament to its continued relevance and popularity or to the cavernous rut my life has been stuck in for the past 2.5 years. Either way, screw it – I’m still getting paid and having fun.
In looking back on my columns, I happened to notice that 64 percent of my writing dealt with drinking or
bars in some way, shape or form. And while that may seem like a relatively high amount to some of you, I’m
actually curious to see what the other 36 columns were about. I suppose the one of the reasons for the heavy
slant towards bars and drinking would be the various exciting opportunities to enjoy the great nightlife of
the metropolitan area. Perhaps another would be the necessity to shield myself from the depressing reality
that 100 columns over 2.5 years have brought in a mere $5,000 – before taxes. Further compounding the
depressing reality is the fact that I’ve probably spent $20,000 to $30,000 annually in “researching” these
pieces. So a very real and valid argument could be made that maybe I have spent a little too much time hanging out
at the boozer.
In case any of you readers are worried about your own conditions, allow me to share some of my
thoughts and concerns so that we can see if we’re on the same page here. Please forgive the “Foxworthian”
approach to my little evaluation here, but I jus’ think them thar’ redneck jokes is a dern hoot. Here we
go…
You might be a boozehound if:
-You actually have your wristwatch set on “bar time.”
-You have your alarm clock set for “Happy Hour.”
-You know what day of the week it is only because you know which bartender works what shift at your local.
-When the bartenders switch shifts you become angry and confused, like some caged monkey with a new
zookeeper.
-Despite all your searching, you can’t find one piece of outerwear in your closet that doesn’t have a beer
logo embroidered on it somewhere.
-The only t-shirt you own that doesn’t have a beer or bar’s name on it is your favorite NFL team shirt – and
even that has a Guinness stain near the left nipple.
-Your parents have your local’s phone number on speed dial.
-You have at least one facial scar resulting from a drinking incident.
-You’ve actually ordered a drink over the phone to ensure that you’d make last call.
-You’ve cashed a paycheck at a bar.
-You’ve cashed a paycheck at a bar with no questions asked.
-You’ve run tabs that would rest on a bookshelf like a Tolstoy novel.
-You’ve had food delivered to a bar – from the restaurant directly across the street.
-You’ve come to the conclusion that there’s nothing in the world sexier than a lipstick stain on a pint of
Guinness.
-You consider darts to be a sport and you play in a league.
-You consider wiffleball to be a sport and you form a league – only so you have an excuse to go to the bar
afterwards.
-Cab drivers instinctively drop you off at your local even when you tell them you’re heading somewhere else.
-You tell the cabbie it’s no problem and go in anyway.
-Random patrons who moved off to far away, exotic lands come back years later for a visit and say, “Wow;
I can’t believe you’re still here.”
-Your drinking buddies consider your girlfriend to be this fictitious, Vera Peterson-type mystery woman
because her jealously of the bar has kept her away for years.
-You’ve gone to take your dog for a walk and only made it a block to your local.
-You run to the corner for a loaf of bread, a quart of milk and a stick of butter only to come home four
hours later and half-in-the-bag.
-You’ve spent a major holiday at your local with regulars.
-You and your family have spent a major holiday at your local with regulars.
-You write 100 columns and 64 of them are about bars and drinking.
All in all, I have to say it’s been a pretty good run, despite some of my tendencies. And I find that like a
good whiskey, I seem to be mellowing with age when it comes to the partying. Of course, that doesn’t mean I’m
averse to tearing into it from time to time, just not all the time – in fact, less than 64 percent of the
time.
That having been said, I’ve certainly enjoyed writing these every other week, and I hope you’ve enjoyed
reading them. Since without you, the reader, I wouldn’t be making the big bucks that I am.
$5,000 for 100 articles over 2.5 years!?!?!?! Goddamnit, I need a drink.
If you know how I can effectively waste $50 in the metro area, please write to:
“Hal Wastes His Wages”
c/o The Hudson Current
1400 Washington Street
Hoboken, New Jersey 07030
Or via e-mail:
Current@hudsonreporter.com