The Empress' New Clothes

Well, the time has come for change within my community.  My little local, The Empress Ale House, has had a lobotomy.  Part of it's brain has been removed and it's now destined for an existence that befits such an operation.  It'll become a droning zombie, responding to it's atmosphere, rather than creating one.  There once was a girl named Sue, who used to run things over the Black Dog, one of Edmonton's most favored pubs.  Sue decided to open her own place, away from the weekend revellers and douchebags that a hot spot like Whyte Ave is bound to attract.  So one of the regulars at the Black Dog bought in on the venture by fronting some cash...I don't know the spilt in cash ownership...but let's just say Sue had enough for about 30-35% and her partner floated the rest.  The Empress came to be.

It was a pub built around community.  This isn't just a bar, or a place to go drink on the weekend.  This is where you went to visit your friends.  You knew everybody and they all knew you.  We knew all the staff, as did all the regulars...and the first drink of the night was always on the house.  For me, it just so happened that at a time in my life when I really needed to feel a part of a community, the Empress took me in.  I can't express here how important it was to me at the time to be treated as I was by my friends at my local.  And now that the bar is successful and running well with a solid reputation, the money-man has reared his head.  This "friend" of Sue's made her the victim of a majority shareholder firing.  Turfed her to take it all for himself.  One of the first things to happen after he delivered the bad news to the lady whose heart & soul built the place, was to start drawing a huge salary out of the bar for himself and his wife.  Greed. 

So in response, everyone stood up for Sue.  I believe that's what a community does...looks after their own.  Last night all of the staff...bartenders, waitresses, bouncers, DJ's from each night of the week...they all stood up and walked out.  Screamin' Eagles Style.  Tigercats.  Thunderbirds!  And I say good for you!  It takes balls to pull that shit.  Take their livlihoods and throw them on the line for what's right.  I support my friends.  And now, it affects me.  Where will my community go?  Where will the locals meet up with eachother again?  Where will the staff end up working?  What will become of the Empress?  Where the hell am I gonna go for my weekend beer??

I guess all of those things will work out just fine.  But I will miss it.  I spent my last three birthdays there.  I met the last 30 of my closest current friends there.  I met Julie there.  When I was excited about having secured one of the first DVD copies of the White Stripes documentary of their Canadian tour, bartender Bobby hung a sheet from the ceiling, brought in his own projector and we screened the movie right there in the bar.  And Leah's chalkboard, with insane chalk drawings she conjured up to announce the night's theme, complete with drink specials.

It was a place to see your friend's band play.  It was a place to see Corb Lund play!  One of the bartenders, Victoria, accompanied us on our vacation to the Dominican Republic.  When we came back from New Orleans, we brought a gift for the Empress...an alligator head that decorated the back of the bar.  I guess it still does, but I wonder for how long.  How long will it take before the money-man starts tossing reminders of the community that was once there.  I wonder if he'll take it home with him and sell it in a garage sale?  Just another way to make a profit off the back of the community.  I wonder if he'll sell it and put the three dollars in his piggy-bank?  Tonight we go to the secret party for the Empress staff and patrons.  Secret location...call a cell number when we arrive at a building and someone will come let us in.  Do not bring anyone with you.  $6 at the door.  No outside booze allowed.  Respect the space.  As if they even need to say that last part.

So, to the Empress:  a cheers!  You were there for me and now I am there for you.  I can't wait to see where we all end up.  As Pablo so eloquently misquoted; Goodbye and thanks for all the fish!