"Can you put on the Boston College game," said the middle aged woman in a maroon and gold sweatshirt. 'No put on the UCLA game," said a 20 something in a worn and faded blue backwards baseball cap. "Y'uns gonna put on Pitt aren't you?" said another young man in a military style haircut. If I hadn't known before, I knew then, it was March Madness once again. College basketball's NCAA tournament. Three weeks in late March and early April that are considered by many to be the most exciting event in sports. I looked at the three solicitors, the swirling mob of spring revelers, the two dirty plates in my hand, and the dirty glasses piling up on the bar. I was going to have to establish some priorities. Bartending, like life is a about prioritizing. Unfortunately not every one sees the same priorities, either in life or in bartending. As I started attending to those very priorities, I noticed two people in matching upper east coast university sweatshirts squeezing their way into two vacancies at the bar. He was twice her age and at first I wasn't sure of their relationship. I don't judge these things, but I do notice. It would soon become clear that he was her father. "Hey you," said the man in a tone that might get him punched in the face in a lot of places. "Put on the 'insert college name here' game." "We've got several people watching this game," I said gesturing at three different groups of people. "I don't care," said the man. "Well they do," I said as politely as I could under the circumstances. The restaurant was running a little behind and people were waiting for tables. Some more patiently than others. The hostess came up behind the just arrived father and daughter, to inform them that their table was now ready. We'll be there in a minute," said the man in much the same tone that he had used with me. "You need to put on the "insert college name here" game," he said again. Again I gestured at the other people. On it went, he kept insisting that I change the channel. And I kept telling him that other people were watching the game that was on. The hostess approached him, once again, to tell him that his table was ready. He waved her off. "Go ask those other people if you can change the channel," he ordered. Mind you this was not all that was going on. At the same time I was also making drinks, ringing in To Go orders, taking food orders, cleaning up glassware and doing my best to facilitate the general enjoyment for perhaps 30 other people. The hostess approached once again. "Sir, if you'd like to stay here, I can give your table to someone else," she said politely. "We are running behind," she added, "And there are lots of people waiting." "I don't care," he said, once again. "Let them wait." Eventually I went to the other groups of people and requesting a brief change in channels, finally changing the channel under the condition that we would switch back and forth. Much to my surprise the man immediately got up, and trailed by his daughter walked into the dining room, far from the channel that he had spent the better part of 15 minutes demanding to see. But it wouldn't be the last I saw of him. Far from it. He returned every 5 to ten minutes to repeat the entire thing all over again. Finally about an hour later, both he and his daughter returned to the bar, again pushing their way into two seats. "Can I get you something?" I asked. No was the answer. About five minutes later a waiter appeared from the dining room. "Sir your dessert and coffee are ready," he said. "Bring it to us here,' he said. "Do you want me to transfer the check back here," said the waiter looking at the still waiting reservation crowd. "No we'll be having brandies at the table," he said. So there we were, plenty of people waiting and these two were attempting monopolize a dining room table, and two seats at the bar and the TV. It came time to change the channel. This time the daughter piped up. "Change it back," she said in a tone that sounded a bit like her fathers. I explained the situation, once again but this time to her. We repeated the same interaction that I had experienced with her father, only speeding things up slightly. Remembering my earlier experience I switched the television back. At which time they both got up and returned to their dining room table, but this time with the daughter leading the way. Her father followed behind with what can only be described as a look of complete pride on his face, which left me to ponder four things. 1) Squeaky wheels do often get the grease, eventually and unfortunately. 2) In order to determine where some people get their rude self centered behavior, sometimes you have to look no farther than their parents. 3) There is a fine line between assertiveness and arrogance. 4) I can hardly wait until April 6, the day of the NCAA championship and the last day of March Madness.

Grooming the Cubs