7. I am a bartender, not an escort. Funny how a lot of guys in suits seem to mistake the two, but just because I get you a beer and have a vagina while doing so, it does not give you the right to grab my ass or say inappropriate shit to me. That’s assault, brotha. If you think grabbing a girl-you-don't-know's ass is a good icebreaker, maybe you should reevaluate your life. I am not being paid to flirt with you or your friends. I do not get paid nearly enough to pretend I am remotely interested in 98 percent of the bankers, traders, stock brokers and other finance guys who roll through my little bar during the week. And for the guys in my bar who already crossed that line, if you think I haven’t thought about messaging your wife on LinkedIn about how I had to have her husband thrown out because he put his hand up my skirt, you’re greatly mistaken. It’s always on the backburner as an option. Treat me with respect, and you will not be forcibly evicted from my bar. Or ratted out to your wife for being a groper.
6. Anything less than 20 percent is blasphemy. Sorry, kids. This isn’t an ego thing. Most service industry workers make about $2.13 an hour, far below minimum wage. My livelihood is my tip. And I know without a doubt, I never give service that is worth less than 20 percent. I always find it funny to hear these guys who work for banks talk about throwing money around, but when a $153 bill is dropped, everyone gets real quiet. It’s ironic that those who deal with money on a daily basis are the ones who seem the most confused when it comes to adding a tip. You aren’t curing cancer or solving the debt crisis here, bro. You’re leaving a 20 percent tip on a check, and I’m pretty sure your phone even has a calculator.
5. Don’t ever tell me to buy you a drink. I am all about buybacks. I love rewarding loyal patrons who are courteous, respectful and patient with a round. What I don’t love is having someone demand I buy them a round, or worse, demand I buy MORE rounds for them. Even if you have a regular presence at a bar, it doesn’t always justify a buyback, let alone multiple buybacks. When people say, “Well, I’ve spent $300 here, you aren’t going to buy me anything?” I usually respond by saying, “When you go to CVS and buy a hundred bucks worth of stuff in toiletries, do you demand free bottles of shampoo or Tylenol?” If you are asking for free drinks, more than likely you’re a jerk in the general scheme of life and I don’t do buybacks for them. Seriously, who ASKS for free drinks? How poor are you?
4. Don’t ask me for something “fun." Dude, I’m going to be 27. I’ve been drinking for 10 years. I know what I like; I know what I don’t. When I go to a bar, I have four staples – Hoegaarden, Chardonnay, Jack and coke, Bud Light. If the bar offers crazy concoctions, I’ll browse the list. But to the women who think they’re in an episode of "Sex and the City," no, I don’t want to make you something “fun.” All alcohol is fun. You get drunk. Whether it’s pink or brown or blue or clear, it’s fun. Pick a drink, and stop expecting the bartender to have a secret bottle of hot pink glittery awesome fun that's just going to take your drinking experience to the next level behind the bar. It’s cranberry juice for Christ's sake. My grandma used to drink it when she was constipated.
3. I am not stupid. Yes, I work in a bar, and I have for a while. But many years ago I had a nine-to-five desk job with benefits and a computer and a boss who made my life hell. And you know what? I hated it. I am not dumber than you because you wear a suit to work, and I wear leggings and a tank top. I am not dumber than you because I serve beer, and you tell people you trade bonds when you actually get your boss’s lunch and laundry. I too, went to a decent college. I have a degree. I travel. I’m cultured. I love sports, and I’ve been published. I work my ass off both at my bar and trying to get where I want to be with my writing. Do not assume that because I am the one pouring your beer, that somehow I am less ambitious than you or a disappointment who wasn't so capable as you were to get a job in IB or marketing.
2. Don’t tell me to smile. Don’t write it on a check. Don’t write it on a napkin, and certainly don’t say it to my face. Look kids, I know it’s hard to believe, but I too have problems. I have bad days, and sometimes I am not all smiles. I will always do my best to be polite and attentive - qualities any good server should employ regardless of how their day is going. But do people walk around your office telling you to smile while you’re sitting at your desk? My favorite response to people who seem to think I should constantly be smiling is usually that I just found out my dad’s cancer came back, or that it’s the anniversary of my mother’s death. Neither are ever true. However, don’t assume you know what’s going on in the life of the person who is serving you. Don’t wanna feel like a total jackass for telling a girl who’s dad just died to “smile?” Well, then don’t tell her to smile. I work in a bar, not Chucky Cheese. Stuff happens in my life too, and sometimes my job sucks. Don’t expect me to greet every person like I just won the mega millions.
1. We are not “in your town." One of my biggest pet peeves is when tourists from backwoods, stereotypical, Southerntown come in to my bar, usually around the holidays, get a glass of wine or a mojito or a margarita and are seemingly SHOCKED at the prices, conveniently after they drink the whole thing. When the argument becomes, “Where I live a glass of wine is five dollars,” it takes a lot of me to not say something like “because it looks like you enjoy a good box of Franzia.”
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