I've been working in the service industry for the past, oh, 9 years. The one thing that I've noticed is that the longer I'm in the industry, the more my job descriptions tend to evolve. I think my bartending job at the pub has evolved to include the following:
Job description: Bartender in a blue-collar sports bar
Must be able to mix drinks, serve customers, and work on a cash till in a pleasant and efficient manner. As supervisor on duty, you must also take on the role as security guard, hostage negotiator, crowd control tough-guy, babysitter for inedbriate-disabled adults who pour drinks over themselves, throw tantrums and think that threatening you with a cue ball is a good idea. Must be able to separate a 250lb drunk and a 210 pound clinically insane man who thinks that they imaginary rifle in his hand is actually shooting a quiet group of men he believes are undercover mounties who are out to arrest him and put him in solitary confinement. You must also smile through all of this and pretend that dealing with aggressive hammered people is your favorite thing in the world. You love to tell grandmothers that they've had too much to drink and they should get the hell out of your bar.... forever. You must also tell the sons of NHL players that they are complete buffoons and they should never step foot past the front door. And smile. When you refuse to listen to their slobbering, slurring stories about how they're not as completely imbecilic as they are acting, smile. Welcome to your new job.
I guess there's no sense in really going on about the fact that I had an absolutely ridiculous night at work, and that in 2 months, when I'm pretty much officially done with the booze industry, that I'm not going to miss it all that much. Luckily for me, I'm pretty good at smiling.
- T
2 comments:
I loved being a bartender/server! Here are some of my favorite memories:
- getting my tips stolen the week before my trip to Europe by a crack addicted ex-Cowboys waitress who skipped town about a month later
- being left alone to work on a Saturday night so that my alcoholic boss could go home and, surprise surprise, get drunk
- getting followed into the freezer by the crack-addicted head chef, who joked about being able to "do anything!" in its cozy and private confines
- Being threatened with death by a drunk dude who I had to cut off because he was so drunk that he felt comfortable threatening me with death
But hey, there were good things too! Mostly the money, and the companionship of my coworkers who were all dealing with all of the same sort of shit.
There is definitely comfort in the fact that many people have had to put up with the same rubbish as I did over the weekend. I could probably tell stories for hours on end, since this isn't the first time it's happened. But I survived to tell the story, so all's well. Do you miss the industry, Jod? :)
And my apologies to all of those people who saw that I made a variety of punctual and grammatical errors above. Tends to happen when I don't proofread, and even when I do proofread!
- T
Post a Comment