Auntie Mae's Parlor

Manhattan, Kansas---There are some jobs that can be so much fun, you can’t believe they are paying you to do it. I felt that way for the first time when I was a city pool lifeguard in my hometown of Newton, Kansas. I also felt that way when I got a job in ”Aggieville,” the area one block from Kansas State University existing mainly to entertain college students. And within Aggieville, there was ONLY one place I wanted to work: Auntie Mae’s Parlor.

Even before I got a job there I knew there was something special about this tiny, basement bar and restaurant…if you can call it a restaurant since the kitchen was about five feet by four feet with a toaster oven and small apartment size refrigerator, never-the-less we still served toasted sandwich baskets including the ever-hated Veggie Sandwich because it was such a pain to make.  But even then, when the drinking age was 18 for 3.2 beer and getting into Auntie Mae's meant you bought a yearly membership and were 21, it was never a pick up joint. It was a meet "up with your friends" place and yes, we mostly knew everybody's name. Regardless I never really told my  conservative Mennonite parents I worked in a bar and emphasized the restaurant part to them...until my Mom visited and I begged the manager to hide the bottles and put books on the shelves.

Now on this road trip,  I had returned and was anxious to see if it was still there. I turned the corner of its location and yes, same name, same logo. I walked down the stairs and it felt like walking out of a time travel booth.  I could almost hear Split Endz blaring on the stereo. I was back at the very place that I had loved so much 30 years ago. It looked the same to me. Dark wood,  low open rafters, a row of booths on one side and the long bar on the other with a small aisle down the center.  Double rails for the waitresses to get to the bar. At the end was the tiny kitchen and bathrooms as well as another set of “staff only” stairs used for emergencies like having a mad ex show up. Behind the stair case that had a landing in the middle to turn you toward another short series of steps to the bottom, was a small area for tables, and sofas. Also the hot spot for playing darts.

When I first got my cocktail waitress position there, I had only been there a few nights, when the manager “Toofi,” told me they had a huge problem with one of the kegs and he needed me to quickly go to another bar and ask to borrow the “Keg Defoamer.” Anxious to make a good impression, I went to “Brothers,” another bar owned by our owner, Charlie Bush. In fact Charlie, a young entrepreneur, owned several bars and one restaurant all located in Aggieville.

The bartender at Brothers told me to sit and enjoy a free beer while he went to look for it. Later he returned and informed me they had just loaned their Keg Defoamer to the “Avalon” and I should try there…next bar, repeat the above story, next bar, repeat the above story, next bar…

I do remember that I refused the beer because I was in a hurry and worried about this important mission. I guess others before me had drank all 5 beers and returned drunk and without the defoamer. I just returned without the defoamer about ready to cry. I had failed.


I took that dreaded walk down the staircase to a staff laughing their heads off.

There is no such thing as a “Keg Defoamer.”

I was fully initiated, Auntie Mae’s Parlor style.

Working there I came to know people I would have never have met on campus and not everyone was in school. There was “Moose,” Nick, Tammi, “Toofi,”  Tracie,  Randy, Teresa, Mel, “Lumpy,” Bill, Donny, as well as other staff from the sister-bars like JT and Kevin.  In Kansas City I reconnected with Tammi for the first time in 30 years.  We both had similar feelings toward our time at Auntie Mae’s. She had married Kevin who had worked in one of the sister locations. The bartender Tracie became one of my best friends and I remained friends with her for many years and was even a bridesmaid in her wedding but had lost track of her in the more recent years.

College friend Leslie made the road trip to Manhattan with me.

There was indeed something special about working there. But what was it?

Walking down those stairs so many memories flooded my mind. This was the first place that had theme parties complete with costumes. I would go on to take this into to my professional career in Advertising and my years working with the American Advertising Federation club in Florida. Ask most people that know me and they have either attended a party or been a part of a show in costume, my favorite: Dress as your favorite Gilligan’s Island character where 100+ people showed up in my backyard coconuts and all. Or the shows to promote advertising dressed as Snap, Crackle and Pop or the Jolly Green Giant complete with green pantyhose. What I had learned is that costumes are huge ice-breakers and people will have more fun when the can get outside of what is normally their comfort zone.

Standing there in Auntie Mae’s I realized for the first time that THIS is where I learned it. There was the Toga Party, where I had sewn Toofi a complete toga out of the deep blue cloth bags from his one and only drink: Crown Royal…and he was well over 6 feet tall and it took A LOT of little blue bags. But then on February 28, 1983 M*A*S*H, closed out the series' eleventh season with a 2½-hour episode and we had decided to all dress in characters and promote it as a place to watch the show. It was standing room only that night, and I remember I did not get to watch the show until years later because I was so busy getting people drinks.

I look back at the business that was Auntie Mae’s Parlor and one thing comes to mind. Charlie Bush. The guy at the top had molded relationships with employees and encouraged, if not created, bonding. We could drink on the job, but no one got drunk…because we needed to work hard for Charlie. We could goof around with customers and staff, but everyone did their job…because we needed to work hard for Charlie.  And Charlie would hang with us, usually sitting at the end of the bar with a cocktail and simple smile saying hello to customers and his staff.  Everyone that worked for Charlie in the other establishments would come in on their days off and patronize us and his other businesses. “We” were Charlie’s. Few of us went to Aggie Station, Kites, McKay’s or Mother’s Worry, the competition owned by Mr. Ray. We felt appreciated, and even though I was only 22, I always was treated with respect and like an adult.  And Charlie would reward us with an invitation to go boating with him at Tuttle Creek or bus all his employees to Kansas City for a River Boat party. Tammi and I talked about it when we got together and mutually agreed that any one of us would have done anything for Charlie, not because of employment but because of loyalty.

I never remember Charlie ever correcting or reprimanding one staff member in public. But you never, ever doubted that he was the one who ran the show and if something was wrong it would be corrected behind the scenes.

And then it hit me. Standing there where I had once been a restaurant and bar employee, I had tried to re-create Auntie Mae’s Parlor at The Beach Bucket, the oceanfront restaurant and bar that I was Managing Partner of and only three months ago had resigned. It took this coast to coast trip and a walk down the stairs to Auntie Mae’s to put it all together. THAT’S WHY I was so hurt by the bartender, THAT’S WHY I was so confused by my business partner’s choices, THAT’S WHY I loved the staff there so much. I had a vision. Even more, I had an example that I had seen work. And when it didn’t match the vision of my energetic bar manager, or my experienced restaurateur business partner, I felt defeated. But they didn’t know. I didn’t even know.

Current Live Music poster

Charlie sold the bars. Brother’s Bar and The Avalon above it burned down. But still I have a loyalty toward the Auntie Mae's location and I wanted to meet the current owner. He was in a booth talking to customers.  He seems to have some “Charlie” in him. The bar has had its ups and downs, even closing for a short time. He had brought live music there and has made a name for great bands traveling between Denver and Kansas City doing a stopover to preform. It reminded me of the "Cactus" on the campus of the University of Texas in Austin that I had visited earlier on this trip.  I chatted with him and told stories of the events that occurred there, he told me stories of what it’s like now…amusing me over the rumored history of who Auntie Mae was. I asked him where his merchandising was and he brought down a couple t-shirts to show me. I said, “Yes, I’ll take both. How much?”

He smiled and said, “No cost to you. You’re Family.”

To be treated like that after 30 years summed it all up. The Spirit of Auntie Mae's Parlor lives on.



MASH party and Auntie Mae's Parlor Staff  at the time (plus Charlie top left) . Tammi went as Radar in the bottom right.

Tammi and me after 30 years.

On the wall: Tracie at our Toga Party.

 

Before my time but on the wall: Original opening staff and Charlie...

 



Auntie Mae herself.