That happy hour crowd that you are not a part of because you are the new guy, it hurts . . .  I mean it really hurts because the banter and inside jokes have occured while you weren't there, unable to be in on the joy & fun of what was said.

It hurts because there is no value, because the drinks are aready in front of everybody with a back-up on the way, seeing the up-side down shot glass in front of them. Thus no more drinks to ring up as I come around and get setted in. The only thing left in the wake of the emptiness is a dirty glasses, ashtrays and a bartop to be wiped down.

The ebb and flow of people slipping out like the low tide, and slowly an empty bar reveals itself to a still quite space that lays out before you. Couple of hours that pass as side work and cleaning and maybe a soletary customer turns into a stiring of regulars for the late night rush of the few loyal late night regulars.

The thought, that was the last person to walk in, as the final drinker of the night and now systemactical closing process begins cleaning, stocking and moving bar stools to the right spot. Swoosh, opens the front and a few straglers from another bar along with the their bartender walk in. Bantner,fun and catching up from the last time they were seen. As the time  approches the closing hour it's always a little to fast, goo byes are said and hand shakes and kisses, are exchanged, closing process begings again. To that late night crowd that walks in, I am their bartender,friend and confidant, Now all is good in the world until tomorrow when I see that Happy Hour crowd again, with a little bit of ache and pain because I'm the new guy.