Safely Spilling the Bloody Mary: An O.J Tale from Behind the Bar

My name is Richard Healthy, and I'm a bartender with a story to tell. A tale that's been bottled up inside me for years, waiting for the right moment to uncork. That moment has finally arrived.

It all started on a night like any other in the bustling town of Aspen. As a young and ambitious bartender, I found myself caught in the whirlwind of celebrity and scandal. It was a time when O.J. Simpson, a name that once dominated headlines and divided the nation, made his first public appearance since the infamous trial of the century. As fate would have it, I was the one who found myself serving Simpson and his entourage.

The evening began with the usual mix of locals and tourists filling the bar. But when O.J. Simpson and his group walked in, the atmosphere shifted. I watched as the female cocktail servers, fear evident on their faces, told their bosses they were scared for their lives. I knew I had to step up and serve Simpson and his crew.

The food and beverage director, a female, came over to me while I was working in the bar. This was unusual. Normally, the restaurant manager or the bar manager would approach me with any issues. The food and beverage director rarely stepped into the bar. She informed me that I was the one who had to go tell O.J. Simpson that he was not allowed to smoke a cigar in the lounge. It was a daunting task, but I approached him, politely explained the policy, and to my relief, he complied without causing a scene.

As I mixed their drinks, Simpson told me a joke about Bloody Marys, saying, "They're good because they have 'ta-kill-ya' in them." The irony was not lost on me, as I managed to keep a straight face while my heart raced.

Later, Simpson's white blonde girlfriend approached me, asking for some cocaine. I, being the resourceful bartender that I am, managed to procure the requested substance. But as I delivered it to Simpson and his girlfriend, a thought crossed my mind: what if Simpson was a jealous man and what if he freaked out?

The thought of Simpson's violent past and the possibility of becoming a target was too much for me to bear. It wasn't long before I left my job in Aspen and never returned. I moved to Las Vegas, hoping to put the incident behind me.

But fate had other plans. Simpson was arrested in Las Vegas, and I, now living in the city, found myself once again in the shadow of Simpson's notorious past. It wasn't until Simpson's death that I finally felt safe enough to share my story.

Looking back on that fateful night in Aspen, I can't help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all. I survived serving O.J. Simpson and his entourage, and now I can finally tell my story without fear. And so, dear reader, let this be a reminder that sometimes, life can throw some truly unexpected twists and turns your way. But in the end, it's the stories we live to tell that make it all worthwhile.

“OJ - you cannot smoke a cigar here”