Thursday, July 02, 2020

The Real Bartending Blues pt 1


So in one of my previous posts, I concocted a short story about an Irish barman suffering all of the most common complaints someone in the trade is likely to experience. If you haven't read it and want to, here's the link:



If you have read it, you'll know my writing style is incredibly verbose. It's almost like I get off in using excessive amounts of words to over illustrate something that can probably be done in fewer words. I am not about tight word economies. If you're up for reading this article, you can expect more of the same. The previous post was a combination of fiction and non-fiction. That is to say that everything that happened in the story has happened to me or another bartender, just not necessarily on the same night or in direct succession. That being said, every place I have worked in has given me a story. This post will be about recounting them.

I'm not going to tell you abut every bit of flirtation or sexual tryst I've had during the bar career, because I'd like to at least attempt to play the gentleman card for a while yet. Kissing, or eating someone out until they squirt in your eye during prolonged clitoral stimulation and telling isn't part of the plan and besides that, I don't actually get laid from bartending as much as one would expect. Now of course, I get hit on. All bartenders do, regardless of whether they're physically attractive or not. I'm sure there are some psychological studies which might look at the power dynamic created between a patron and a bartender who controls the alcohol supply, or the fact that someone even remotely friendly when you're under the influence will appear more attractive. Without stroking my own ego too much, I'm not the ugliest or most socially awkward guy in the world, so numbers have been passed my way, however the people who hit on me whilst I'm working are typically at least a little bit inebriated at the time. If I were to go meet them after my shift finishes at some tender hour of the morning like two or three am, they're could well be drunk to the point sleeping with them could at the very least for them be regrettable and at the worst, be morally reprehensible, or straight up illegal. Texting them a day or two later will sometimes mean they don't remember you, or you have to begin the flirting game all over again. I've had beautiful women try to drag me home, but being that they were hammered, I politely declined, but suggested I we exchange numbers. The conversation the next day usually revolves around them trying to remember who I am, only to feel “the fear” that they had done something or said something that they shouldn't have. Maybe my “game” is weak, maybe I'm took picky. It is, as they say, what it is. So anyway, let's make with the good stuff.

Robinson's Bar, Belfast
Apart from doing the odd bit of waiting for the function suite of the rowing club my Dad belonged to, the first bar I ever truly worked in was Robinson's Bar. Opposite the most bombed hotel in the history of Belfast, Robinson's is a multi-storey pub that attracts loudmouth tourists and loudmouth locals. Seriously, I've heard genuine “bullshit-you-not” rumours that Robinsons was one of the first places that cops checked for those who had “escaped” from mental hospitals, from those in the charity sector as well as hospitality. I started there as a glass collector, or “bar back” as they're often known as. My duties were largely revolving around the simple act of collecting glasses as the name suggests, but would extend as far as cleaning tables, restocking the bar and cutting fruit. I hated the job from the interview. An interview which I had gone into with an LSD come down, which made had me accidentally walk into the wall behind me as I got up to leave my seat. The interview process, which was shared with a ditzy seventeen year old girl had us both stumble through the most basic questions.

“Why do you collect glasses?”

“To keep tables tidy. Prevent glasses from being knocked over. Glasses can be used as a weapon! Reduce chance of spillage!”

“Yes, those are good reasons, but what it the main reason you collect glasses?”

“GLASS IS A WEAPON!”

“You've given me that one. Hrmmm there's a more obvious one”

“No idea, sorry.”

“What do we serve drinks in?”

“OHHHHHHHH!!! Bottles?”

When I had started, I was not in a good frame of mind. My father had passed on not long before I started and a year prior, I had finished university, I was full of hope and expectation for a great working life, only to encounter a job market plagued by the global recession. Something we appear on the verge of in this COVID 19 governed society. It was a job that I was good enough at to say it was beneath me, but the attitude I displayed was one of the many reasons I wasn't given an opportunity to learn bartending. It probably didn't help that I'd be stoned half the time I was working there, or I'd drift out on my break and have two pints in Wetherspoons before returning to half ass my job a bit more. A practice I'd continue in some shape or form in various jobs for years to come, just typically with a lot less of that prick Martin's establishments. That, along with occasionally, covertly finding a bag of miscellaneous white powder on the floor and playing “sniff the mystery gear”, or you know, getting away with the fact I was doing as little as possible counted as the main perks. If I would loathe that feeling of subservience bartending sometimes grants workers, I'd really grow to hate it as a barback. It's a real “fetch me, bring me” job, you know, like on your first day where you're told to get a “long weight” or “some tartan paint” by some bartender eager to test your gullibility levels on your first day on the job. And yeah, I went and asked for that long weight, with an eyebrow raised high enough to challenge The Rock himself. That's not to say I didn't revel in that tradition for years to come. In fact, when I did it, years later, I was probably worse, praying on poor bar backs who didn't even speak English as a first language. Despite the haze of hangovers and mild substance abuse, barbacking had its odd notable moment – like myf irst physical confrontation in a bar, or the second one, which were a lot tamer than one would expect from the bar across the raod from the most bombed hotel in Belfast.

To speed service and get as many empties from the tables, I'd stack the collected empty glasses in towers of about twelve and sometimes carry two at a time. This is something which is probably fairly dangerous at the best of times but probably a lot more so in a bar with sticky floors, handbags and middle-aged cankles strewn about the floor. Despite that fact, generally nothing goes that badly, except for one occasion, when some clown decided to do the unthinkable. Any bar that I work in, I've known female staff to be harassed by sleazy prick patrons. I've offered to speak to the patron and warn them off, I've encouraged them to speak to managers, or doormen, but out of shame and embarrassment, they've chosen to avoid fuss and take the silent option. It saddens me that guys not only feel entitled to be grabby like they are, but get away with it. Then it would happen to me a few times with hen parties and I'd let a bum pinch from a rough looking oul doll slide because aside from making a quip about it, I didn't feel like it was worth my while making a fuss. When guys did it, it became slightly more of a big deal. Particularly on one occasion, when I had my two towers of glasses stacked in my hands and I felt a jab on both sides of my hips. You know that “electric shock” thing the primary school bully used to play on you as a kid? Imagine that as a grown fucking man doing his job carrying dangerous-when-broken-objects and some clown you've never met before decides that it'd be hilarious to stab you with his index fingers in the sides. I was, as you can probably tell, outraged. I quickly set down the glasses and tore into the grinning fool behind me, giggling like the little school boy bitch that this 30 something man seemed to think he was.

“What the fuck do you think you're doing?” I growled aggressively.

“I'm sorry!” he yelped nervously, still giggling slightly as he did.

“No you're fucking not. You clearly didn't think one bit about how that could affect me. Think about how dangerous that could have been. How I could have then had to spend another twenty minutes clearing up bits of broken glass because you thought it was hilarious to touch me. Who the fuck are you anyway? Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“I'm sorry,” he whined again.

“Don't be sorry. Don't fucking do it. Just sit there and have a good long hard think about how you fucked up.”

It felt GOOD. I hadn't had a blow out of steam like that on someone for a while, but I will always remember that as my moment of “I need to get the fuck out of this job.” A month or so later, I left the place and didn't look back. I think I've been back for a pint once or twice in the ten years since, but I'd rank it as one of my least likely venues to visit in Belfast.

In my last month or so, there was another instance where a bouncer had to kick two guys out. I got told by one of the bartenders to give the bouncer a hand. Whilst one bouncer had one aggressive customer on the ground, I simply stepped in to make sure that the other customer didn't try to interfere, or stamp on the bouncer. He cocked his hand back as if to throw a haymaker at me and everything went in slow motion. “I've got to block this, or move out of the way, even kick him with a front kick”. It was as if my years of training martial arts, actually was getting in the way, I had too many options, I couldn't decide and in my hesitation, was probably going to get clocked. Just as he went to throw that punch, up came another set of arms, a second bouncer descended on the angry prick and scooped him up from below the arm pits. Saved, by the bell. 

I don't remember too much else from working in that place, other than the odd bit of “fluff” but it made me come to the conclusion, if I was going to stay in the bar industry, I was going to do everything in my power to avoid working as a glass collector ever again and, jokes aside I would give a bit more respect to any good bar back that I'd work with.

Next week, I'm going to fill you in on the other places I've worked in.


I write almost entirely for fun and because I love storytelling, but if you're feeling generous and want to throw a coin or two my way, below is my paypal tipping address.  A fair amount of the money I spend these days goes on either writing classes or tipping other artists for bringing us cheer at this grim time, so I wouldn't say you're wasting too much if you do.   Christ that last sentence is even more try hard..

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