Over the last year or so, I have been thinking a lot about what I did and did not enjoy about bartending.
I actually enjoy talking to strangers.
Medium level acquaintances aka “regulars” can be the tricky ones.
Best example I can think of was a regular couple I found amusing, even if they did drink a little too much, especially the guy.
They’d come in and ask for dealer’s choice vodka cocktails. They always pretty fun to hang out with, despite requesting vodka cocktail after vodka cocktail, and stipulating that I never repeat a cocktail. Hey, I like a challenge as much as the next guy.
Then they got pregnant.
They continued to come in, often with a friend or two.
The wife would not drink, rather grumpily, while the guy continued on his quest to get as plastered as possible on vodka cocktails. Eventually, the wife would retire up to their room, leaving him down there with the friend or friends. Eventually, you could tell, even the friend wanted to go home, but the guy would just plow on. “One more for the road!” after “Just one more!”.
I just wanted to shake him and say, “Dude, wake up! Your wife is mad at you and your friend here wants to go home. Give it up!”
Yep, that’s me, “Mr Spectacles Judgy Guy”.
To an extent, sometimes I see a certain sadism to being a bartender. Some bartenders seem to enjoy and encourage other people’s bad choices. And customers just LOVE that sort of bartender, but the wreckage left behind always bothers me.
Especially, since I was always the one who would end up cleaning up the vomit after Mr Startender took an early powder.