Orange County: The Magic Kingdom Part 3

Chapter Tres: This is how we do it in the OC...

I have an apartment and a car but no job and no bed. I needed to get started on the job thing first. My floors were carpeted, how bad could no bed be after all?

I tended bar back in Boston before I left strictly for the purpose of gaining experience to become a bartender out here for awhile. Not for too long though, I assumed that Hollywood might come knocking at any time. I decided to hit a few areas that I deemed hot-spots in the area.

The first places I went to look at were those littering the sides of Main street in Huntington Beach, or HB. By the way, why the hell does everyone abbreviate so much out here? Sometimes people are so lazy they just cut off the end of a word, like “late” for example. They took later and turned it into late. What exactly is everyone late for I’d like to know? The word is latER. As in I will see you later, and no I won’t be late. See how easy that can be.

Anyway, sorry about that... As I was saying, I went to a few of the local watering holes adorning Main street. First stop was clearly going to be Fred’s Mexican Café. I had been testing out there product over the course of my first few weeks in the OC and I always seemed to enjoy myself there. Maybe it was the view the staff of Fred’s provided. No I don’t mean the view of the ocean or the street, I literally mean the staff. It was clear I wasn’t a hot enough chick to get behind the bar here. The other spots on main weren’t hiring either. Things weren’t looking good in Huntington, so I decided to take a spin over to Newport Beach. I went to Sharkey’s, Beach Ball, and a few others to find the same result. Sorry try back later. Fuck that, I need money now! The carpet is only comfortable for so long and gas is damn expensive. I needed to find something else, or sell my truck and buy a sleeping bag and a Honda.

Luck prevailed as I was driving home from another unsuccessful round of job searching. It took the form of a help wanted sign in the window of Mr. Keg. What a great place to work. I was surrounded by beer. Since I considered myself a writer, I also considered drinking... often. This job was fantastic. I would take kegs of beer to parties and private keg refrigerators, or kegarators as they prefer to be called. People would tip me with alcohol and a few bucks here and there. There would be company meetings in the back of the store at closing time where we take a few samples of our product. I was having a fantastic time, right up until payday. There isn’t a lot of money to be had in the thrilling career of a keg delivery person. Mr. Keg wasn’t going to pay the bills. I needed to find something new.

One random day, I was searching job listings online and came across an ad for bar backs and bartenders at the freshly renovated resort in Newport Beach known as the Balboa Bay Club. This is how I came to find myself in the most mythical part of the Orange Kingdom.