Some of you have asked why I love to go to Mugshots here in Crafton. There are usually more people up at Primanti Brothers, or I could go to the Ugly Dog up in Green Tree, but the reality is none of those places have the sheer entertainment Mugshots gives me, night in and night out.
Aside from three of the best looking bartenders in the universe (yes, I have been to many bars in the Vega System, gotta problem with that?), Mugshots also offers some of the craziest people you will meet if you take the time to do a little people watching, which is one of my favorite games to play at the bar.
His name is Rich, I think. First time I met him, I sit down by my friend Steve (who looks at me and says, “Just to warn you, this guy is going to ask you if you want to smoke with him.”) I barely had my jacket off and Rich leans over and says “Hey man, wanna go outside and burn one with me?” I laugh, and tell him no that I do not do drugs.
Now, do not be fooled by his name, RastaBoy. He is an older gentleman, mid 50s if I am not mistaken. He has tipped the bartender with a joint before. He defines
Anyways, one night he decides to play like 25 Bob Marley songs. After awhile my threshold for Rastafarian music only goes so far. I decide to be a dick. I look at Rich and say “did you play this shit? I hate this music.” He tells me how Rastafarianism is all about love, man and all that other stupid, hippy bullshit. So, I take it a step farther. “My brother was Rasta. He moved down to Jamaica and was eventually stabbed in the chest by one of his Rasta friends. I had to fly down there and identify the body and go to the trial.”
Rich tries to argue that no Rastafarian would do that, but I just keep hammering it home. To the point that everyone is listening and pretty much laughing, and I just keep pumping out the lies. The high point was me looking at Steve and saying “Dude, I gotta go to the bathroom, I’m about ready to cry.”
Rich later tells me he really is not a Rastafarian and that he is actually an existentialist, which I then proceed to laugh at. Every time I see him, he gives me this odd look (mainly because he is high and cannot remember our conversation), or that he feels bad about my dead brother. Anytime he plays one Bob Marley song, I usually say something, and he apologizes and then switches to classic rock.
I should point out for some of you who do not know me well enough, my brother is not a Rastafarian, and he is alive and well without any knife wounds in his chest.
The Squirrel. I do not know how to begin to describe this man/beast. Steve and I named him the Squirrel because of his look and his mannerisms. He has white hair and it is really fluffy and a mustache. When he takes a drink of his bottle of beer, he cocks his head to the side, quickly draws the bottle to his lips and takes a quick swig, then slamming the bottle on the bar. I almost feel like I should video this on my phone and post it on here, unfortunately I have tried to post a video of myself, and I cannot hold my camera still enough…
He constantly looks around the room from side to side, exactly as a squirrel does when it’s eating some nuts. Aside from the obvious physical comedy, the man is hysterical when telling stories. He likes to talk about his ‘Nam days and how the Marines trained him to be a killer. The Marines taught him Tai Kwon Do. He showed Steve his powerful side kick the other night, he got his leg up almost 2 feet! And he actually yelled “HYUH” while doing it.
He talks about how he gets into fights and when the fight is over, he disappears, because he “ain’t goin’ ta jail.” He and another guy also like to list bands from the 70s. They do not debate, nor do they discuss these bands, they just list them. Squirrel also likes to wear a jean jacket and carry a garbage bag, which has another bag inside of it, who knows what that second bag contains.
This kid, Adam, looks like someone who would drop some GHB into a girl’s drink. GHB is the date rape drug, right? Usually when I go into Mugshots, I am wearing my work attire, the tie comes off, the shirt untucked…Adam likes to dress up every time he comes out.
He comes up to me one night and asks how much my shoes cost and where I purchased them. I tell him they come from Target and cost like $15. He laughs at me and goes on to explain how his cost $200 and when he walks you can hear them snap. I point out that mine have mashed potatoes on them.
The funny thing about Adam, aside from the way girls make fun of him and will not let him by them shots, is that when he comes in, 99% of the time he is absolutely wrecked. One night he sat there reaching for his drink, like 10 times, just kept pawing at the air. The reason he could not reach his drink? He did not have one; Kara would not serve him one. His eyes are never focused right, and he always seems a step away from a trip to the ER.
These are just some other random folks I have seen in there who make me laugh.
-The Mexican-this guy looked like he just swam across the Rio to get to America. His pants tore up, a cut-off shirt, and one glove with the finger tips cut off. He kept asking Kara out or for her phone number. She kept saying she has a boyfriend and then he asks if he can take her home. She says no that she has her own car, and he responds, “I have a car.” I do not understand if that was supposed to wow her or something, I mean one glove and a car??? How could she ever say no?
-80s Hockey Playa-he has the mullet and the look to belong on any 1980s hockey team. Usually he just sits and
hits on strikes out with Lisa. He never seems to understand that she is making fun of him, which makes me laugh for many hours. He also loves to talk about his days of high school football while watching any pro game. Likes everyone to think that he is as good as those players.
-DrunkenTolkien-This weirdo wrote a book. He wanted Anastasia to read it. From what I understand, the book is one big run-on sentence. It’s heavily lifted from Lord of the Rings and has something to do with time travel. I listened to him explain it one day, and apparently all three books are set on the same day, but at different time periods 10,000 years apart. He always talks about how he is very close to getting it published by a major publishing house. Right because what all the big publishers want is another carbon copy of Tolkien who cannot write nor does he know any kind of grammar and just wants to keep typing…ugh, just writing without commas and periods makes my brain hurt.
-The Racists-These come in all shapes and colors. I have had random white dudes look at me and tell me how much they hate black people. I usually pretend to be deaf at that point. Even if you are a racist bastard, how can you just look at a complete stranger and let them know that? What if I was half black and carrying a gun?
The other part of the racist equation at Mugshots: Jim and his friend. Two black guys, who love to talk about how stupid white people are. They have no problem generalizing all white people as stupid, inbred, illiterate, homosexuals. I do not think I fall into any of those groups. Well maybe inbred, I am from central PA. Just kidding, central PA is not that bad…
Anyways, I hope you understand why Mugshots draws me in after work. The people listed above make me realize that my life is actually very good.