I met George Jones in the Spring of 1980 when I was a Freshman at UT and a bartender at the Silver Dollar South. He had just released He Stopped Loving Her Today.
My boss was the same boss I had in SA before heading to Austin. He hired me on the spot when he saw me at the SDS one night. He was a former APD officer who had referred me to the worst job in Austin, Longhorn Security (I have stories). He felt guilty, I guess.
Anyway, my bar was next to the stage. It was the least busy bar in the place, but I got to meet performers like John Anderson and Dottie West. My boss had one demand of me that night… don’t let George get too drunk to perform. There had been a previous incident at one of the Silver Dollars, and he didn’t want a repeat
George hit the bar between sets. I poured him a whiskey and did the only thing I could think of, which was try to talk to him like I wasn’t a fanboy. It must’ve worked, because he didn’t ask for another drink. He did open up about how life on the road wasn’t glamorous, and how it made married life difficult (he and Tammy had divorced, and he hadn’t remarried yet). He told me that there were times he wished he had a normal life like mine would be. He didn’t cry, fortunately, because my boss would’ve been even more pissed if George couldn’t come back out because he was a blubbering mess.
After his second set, he came back to my bar and invited me to go to Sambo’s in Sunset Valley (now Hyde Park Bar & Grill on Westgate) with him and the band. My boss said I could leave, but I’d have to find someone to close my bar and reconcile my register. Of course, none of the other bartenders were going to lift a finger for the snot-nosed 19-year old new guy. Still pisses me off, even though I probably would’ve done the same thing.