Adventures In Bartending: May 2008

Ok, so I know I'm not the friendliest bartender but I strive to do my job. With the regulars, it's no problem. Non-regulars, however, have wandered in to our bar & I've stood at attention behind the bar, frozen, as I waited for them to make eye contact with me so I can get their drink order.

Half the time, I'm ignored. I can see that they've seen me, but they spend several minutes looking around, at anything but me, or they engage their friends in conversation, or they avoid my gaze & duck to one of the 5 tables in our tiny place, where they sit & look around for a waittress, causing me to have to come out from behind the bar & corner them so I can get a DAMN DRINK ORDER.

Often I say with a crisp smile, "I was going to send the waittress over, but there is none."

One evening, my bar owner/bartender/alcoholic friend Bryan was sitting on my bar as I failed to make eye contact with a couple of fools who had walked in & were scrupulously looking everywhere but in my direction - left, right, at the ceiling & the floor. I looked at Bryan & said, "Maybe they don't want a drink."

"You're intimidating them," he replied, in a You Moron tone.

Psh.

Last week the bartender from the yuppypond restaurant next door poked her head in our empty, Thin Lizzy-playing bar (it was still early; 9:30ish) to warn us that she was sending over some "ladies." Any time a warning like that is needed is a red flag. "Don't worry, they've already had a lot of drinks & they won't stay long," she said with a big smile. If I had had a shotgun in my hands she would have been dead.

A few minutes later we were invaded by a dance-stepping, whooping group of The Golden Girls Gone Wild. They completely ignored me as I stood there, like a soldier, filing past me & alighting at a table. Then they sat there, looking expectantly around for a waittress. I put on my best neutral smile & trudged to the table. "Hi," I said. "Can I get you anything?"

The middle one asked if we had any "after dinner" drinks. For a moment I had too many thoughts in my head to say anything --- why would we have an after-dinner drink menu when we don't serve dinner, didn't they just have dinner at a Suck Your Dick eatery with a liquor license that would surely have a gorgeous laminated Cocktails For Idiots menu, certainly with all the different liquor in our establishment we could probably whip up some kind of drink for someone to imbibe after they had eaten dinner --- but only the 1st one came out.

Heh. I know, I should have used the 3rd one. The after dinner drinker ordered a "Kahlua. With ice" & I flew away to make their drinks. A little while later, 2 more of them showed up, & when I approached the table, the Kahlua lady asked if she could have some milk with her Kahlua.

"Oh, we don't have any," I said, truthfully. We haven't had milk for... I think not since 2002.

"You don't have any??" one of the newcomers said. "Not even any cream? So you can't make a Prince Charles??" She was outraged.

Several images of body piercing clouded my mind as I said, "No one ever orders that." We don't have coffee either, by the way.

"Well, I just did," she said archly.

Ooh, you wrinkled old self-righteous BITCH. I smiled at her snarlingly. She refused to order & advised the other lady who had come in with her not to either. I collected for the drinks that had already been served & in another minute they all stalked out like a Geriatrics Pride parade. Naturally they stiffed me. I mean, I didn't have any CREAM.

The mistake these women made was, well, coming to our place after having been wined, dined, & 69'd (gross) at the place next door, which caters to people like them. We, on the other hand, are not a "Very good Sir" kind of place. We really would rather have 5 guys in here watching our Paul Rodgers with Queen DVD than 20 dumbasses asking where the restroom is. We're not the Arcadia. We don't have FUCKING MILK.

The mistake I made was probably the dinner drink remark. You know, I know that there are people who don't know their heads from their asses when it comes to cocktails. They think that the only drinks available are those printed on the little laminated card. I have difficulty accepting that sometimes the most efficient way to serve someone their drink is to play along with their stupidity. But I have such a hard time doing it. And I'm completely unrepentant for not having milk.

My resolution for May 2008 is to be more patient with the feeble minded. I will try to control my facial expressions, especially the "You fucking retard" one. I will try to sigh more quietly or just inwardly. I will try to smile more.

I don't work again until June 1st anyway.