Shift Change
In the uproariously, funny film, The Ref, Kevin Spacey says to his mother, who the family all lives in fear of, we’re gonna buy you a cross and any time you feel unappreciated you can nail yourself to it. On most nights at eight-thirty, I know how she feels. In the few times when I come on at eight-thirty as the second or third bartender, I eat dinner before, I arrive early, and I tell who ever is on, “You do what you have to do, I’ll watch the bar.” I wish all my colleagues behaved the same way.
I love working happy hour. Although it’s a big space with a lot of ground to cover, I am responsible for serving everyone who walks in the door. When eight-thirty comes and my co-workers show up, all I want to do is close out my tabs and take a break. I feel that any customer who comes to the bar should be taken care of by one of my newly clocked in colleagues. Friday night it wasn’t an issue but there are times when everyone who just came on is talking to one another, while I’m still serving customers. What pretty much always happens is everyone congregates at one end of the bar where servers and bartenders converse. While I’m trying to go in and out of the bar and work, a love-in blocks my path. One of the ironies of this is that two of my beloved co-workers live a couple blocks from one another, have sleep overs, and, essentially, share a brain, but somehow seem to only talk to each other after they clock in. In fact, it’s something about clocking in that employees who don’t even like each other will find something to talk about in lieu of work.
During my break, I happened upon one of the door men making out with a customer. Now the bar is a funny place. While a few people go out to have a beverage and deep-fried food, a few people go out to get laid. The bar is ground zero for that. Customers and employees, alike, have sex on the brain. I find that macking on a drunk customer, at your post, looks unprofessional, but it’s also part of where we work. (For full disclosure, I’ve made out with customers before, one was even a girl.) At a bar, “professional” can be a subjective term. Last year, in order to get out of jury duty, I got a mohawk. When I walked in to work, my boss said, “That’s severe!” I figured working in a bar my hair wouldn’t be a problem, but perhaps my boss found my mohawk unprofessional. For the record, I never got called for jury duty. Was the mohawk good luck? I got another mohawk in August and we got shut down my first shift, so it’s anyone’s guess.
The night started out super slow and hearing the band I had grave concerns. Turned out they were the opening act. The next band that came on were great and we ended up getting slammed. The money, while very good, isn’t what it was a year or two ago. It was pointed out to me that with a crowd like that last year, we would’ve made twenty percent more. With the economy the way it is, I’m just grateful for a busy night. From what I understand, when the economy is bad only a couple industries buck the trend: film and “our thing.”
I really like the people I work with. For those who haven’t been employed in food and beverage, there’s a real bond created. You get this us (employees) against them (customers) mentality. Alas, when the shift change happens, I sometimes feel it’s just me. Does anyone really care? No. From now on, when I have a problem, I’ll just nail myself to the cross during shift change.
