I didn't think I would ever write this. And I might not have if my good friend and former coworker DJ Petey didn't write it before me. I've actually said it two different times when parting ways, but this time it's for good. "Goodbye Foundry."
For those not in the Colorado area, The Foundry Billiards Club was the largest bar in Boulder. As equally popular for their drinks, dancing, beautiful people and music (DJ Petey) as they were for having dickheaded employees. I was one of those employees.
Just like the Foundry took Petey in, they pulled me in from the cold. I'd just parted ways with another Boulder mainstay, but Foundry's general manager decided to give me a chance — and they really really really needed an extra guy on shift.
My first night was by far one of the craziest shifts I've ever worked. For some reason the Irish Football League scheduled their biggest tournament of the year in Boulder, but there was also a CU vs. CSU game. On top of that, the Best Damn Sports Show Period also made an appearance.
I came into my employment a pretty naive kid. After three years I learned everything I could about the bar business. And then some.
Working at the biggest bar in town has some distinct advantages. First and foremost, I made a lot of money. More importantly, some of my fellow bar monkeys became many of my most precious friends — worth more to me than any paycheck. Even my bosses rank as some of my favorite people in the world.
Now, the Foundry wasn't all peaches and cream. Like I stated before, putting on a Foundry jersey meant you joined the ranks of some of the most despised people in town — and often loved as well. Being a Foundry Guy (or Girl) compared to playing for the Yankees — some people went out of their way to greet you, while others went out of their way to fight with you.
As a doorguy, yeah, I was rough with some people, but only once I can think of an incident when force wasn't necessary. Bouncers and cops share the same impossible tightrope — people see you carrying a guy out and you're a brute but when you aren't around when a jackoff starts causing problems you're a lazy pushover.
Then there's the fact that you're dealing with people not necessarily in their right mind. You can politely ask somebody to behave all you like, and all you'll get is a sore throat. Sometimes force is absolutely necessary.
I've been knocked down by a suckerpunch while three guys tried to see who could put the biggest bootprint on my face. No amount of kind language, understanding reasoning or free drinks could have stopped that stomping.
As a barback, I didn't speak to customers at all. As a bartender, I did the best I could to serve people as fast as I could (while drinking and flirting with girls). Many of our customers were incredible dickheads, but even so, these dickheads allowed me to live a fun life, so I tried to make their stay at the Foundry as fun as possible.
The old Foundry lifestyle was great. Even though I put in maybe thirty hours a week (on top of graduate school, a few girlfriends and a full-time newspaper job) I still managed to enjoy myself. Actually earning, having and saving money was a completely incredible and new experience for me. And then there were the women. Granted, my stats aren't very high, but I did end up dating some of the coolest girls in my history.
On top of all this, I learned how to handle a lot of stress. Barbacking at the Foundry is by far the most mentally and physically demanding job I've ever done, no joke about it. I also learned many of the intricacies of the bar industry, but also how every business in the neighborhood creates a symbiotic relationship with each other.
Unfortunately, these lessons, friendships, memories and monetary opportunities won't be available to the next generation. I'm positive some ex-employees, customers and general haters are saying "Good," but they weren't in the mix like many of us. The fact that I could pay my rent by being employed as "The Lowest Of The Low" — (what cranky folks call bar workers) gave me many opportunities I'd never been offered had I just been a waiter at Chili's.
The big reason I left The Foundry was the same same that I left Boulder. I wanted bigger and better things. And I've found bigger as well as better, but there was a certain chemistry, camraderie and sense of fun at the Foundry that I've never matched in all my searches.
So the doors of the Foundry (technically the New Foundry) will close tonight. Granted, this place hasn't been MY place for a while. But the friends and memories I made will last forever.
So Foundry, thanks for the good times and everlasting friendships — and for paying my bills for so many years.
Most of all a huge special thanks to Byrne, Opie, Wam, Bones, Skeet, Vicious, Q, DJ Petey, Thunder, Chef Jose, Hollywood, Timmy, Fire, GP, Bertros, George, Goldberg, 4-5, Golddust, Deuce, Chachi, Scratchy Pete, Wheels, Big Dumb Mike, Boston Dave, Cookie, Nick A., Gump, Sarah, Jade, Angela, Bix, Julie, Tristan, Alyx, Mel, April, Lindsey, a few hundred other folks I'm sure I missed. I'll even thank Pony Boy. Thanks for all the memories. Take care.
You're the best!
