After two and a half years of working at the place of lost souls, graduating college, 4 or 5 blank page love affairs, getting laid off from my first professional job, and months of worthless interviews, numerous job placement agencies, I finally am being promoted at the bar. It's weird how once you're out of college and been in the real world for a while there is that "now what: moment. It’s an odd feeling to be moving up at a place that you never planned on being at for longer than college. My post college life is supposed to be career driven, and at a place where I am using my education ideally to climb some corporate latter of some sort of business. I’m supposed to become the Angela Bower of the 2000’s. She is my idol, even though she is a fictional person. I would then fit into the San Francisco "I spend a lot of money to look like I don't care" attitude that lives well here among those employed at good companies here. It would be years until I realize that this type of work, while great for most, for me is equal to a labotomy of my drain soul, but we digress. I should wear expensive casual clothing that looks cheap, but my jeans would cost more than 1 month of groceries. I am supposed to become a yuppie, someone who gets to a bar and orders a “pino-o-o” because they are too lazy to finish the sentence, assuming parched from all their white-collar conversations. I should be working on an account and casually updating my facebook with witty comments that show the rest of the world that I am a success, even though a real success doesn’t need this validation. I am supposed to be a walking, talking status symbol. I should be the guy that left my home town and didn’t give up on their dreams at 22 all because they the condom broke. In San Francisco, these yuppie-people spend a lot of money to look like they don’t care. For those who have never worked in a bar or restaurant, those who order their wine this way are often douche bags… These people often do not tip even though they sweat money. When you serve them in my line of work, they often make it very obvious that they haven’t worked a hard day’s work since that summer during their freshman year when daddy cut them off. At least pretending to be one of these peeps is what I have worked towards doing all these years. Why, I’m not sure. I just figure that is a way to break out of the only life if know which involves knowing too well the different ways to eat Top Roman.
Life doesn’t always turn out how we plan. I am making more money now at the bar than I would ever imagine making at any professional job right now. The question that I and perhaps every other bartender in my situation ponders, is how long this will last? Is it like being a model? Once the goods are dried and wrinkled up, you are through? Maybe one day, I too could open my own bar? Or become a brand like Tyra and Heidi? Then, I will not have to worry about an expiration date and live desperately on vanity, botox and anything that can keep my youthful disposition pickled and intact? While many questions fly through my head, one concept is certain. I am young and will not be young forever.
Now, after two years of busing every nook and cranny of this place, cleaning up vomit, dealing with nasty old men playing ass-grab while I am trying to get my job done, I am no longer a barback. I am a full-fledged bartender. What does this all add up to? I finally am now a part of the face of the bar industry. While this sounds simple, there are more ingredients to this position. To do well, one must create a persona. This persona is the one that one uses as the face of the industry. The face always has to look pleasant. This persona is a meld of one’s actual personality, mixed with that of a social partier… This persona is not necessarily different than one’s true identity, but it maybe. The point is, this persona character is who we bartenders become when we want to pay our rent and sell. Yes, the persona is what we in the field use to sell ourselves at least to a degree. Many will argue that this isn’t true. I will argue that in order to do well in this field, one needs to create a strong persona that is often more outgoing than their personality. Some of my co-workers have personas of “the partier,” they are always the life of the party. Some try to emphasize their skill and flare, while others completely rely on their looks and can’t have a conversation or make a proper drink to save their life. My persona is one that is to be very straight-forward and not blow smoke up people’s asses. I’m not overly nice, not afraid to tell anyone how it is and push the borders between clever and nosy. I try to keep the scene lively and as though I won’t take shit from anyone, this hopefully shows people that I won’t be taken advantage of.
Keeping up with the image of the persona, one should look happy at all times. Always be ready for a photo opportunity. While no one can be happy at all times, a good bartender must make it look like they are always be the life of the party. If your relative just passes away or boyfriend tells you he was cheating on you right before your shift, you still should remain smiles because you know that makes the gimmick work better. Not to say that we aren’t sincere, it was just a part of the game we knew we have to play to do well. Unlike barbacking, where one can just walk away from asshole customers, we stand there at our given stations, about 3-4 feet away from another bartender and work it for our customers. This is much like the way the hookers stand in their perspective windows of Amsterdam’s red-light district. There is a mix of confidence and desperation that we smell of.
When we work behind the bar I call it the cage. It is like being the panda in their zoo home a few days a week. It’s a place from which you can’t escape. Instead of escaping, for hours on end you would sing and dance your way to rent. Every move you made can and will be analyzed because there is always someone in the bar watching you. At our bar, if it’s not a customer it’s “big brother.” When you got the crazies at ur station, you can’t just walk away. This promotion truly is a test to my patience and social educate.
(To be continued)
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