Thursday, April 29, 2010

Episode 74: Everyone's job is stressful, even if you only work four days a week

This is the first official post written on the new lap top, it is nice to not have to try and remember which key is 'd' and which one is 'f', you know, because they haven't been ripped off by my raptor daughter.I am having some trouble getting used to the new keyboard, though, as the new laptop is much larger than the old one, allowing space for a full keyboard, something I haven't used since I said goodbye to my desk job at the Item. The fact that I am blogging (God, I still hate that term) on the new computer, of course, means that it is nap time and after an epic battle trying to get her to leave the park- after two hours of fun- she has finally stopped stiff-bodying and screaming at me and given in to her daily siesta. I'm willing to bet any one of you would kill for a required afternoon nap.

Admittedly my patience wasn't the best early on today, probably because I had to work last night, which means that I didn't get to bed until 1 a.m. and I didn't sleep well. In fact, I never sleep well on nights that I work, mostly because I am too busy trying to alleviate the stress of my incredibly stupid job.

As I have mentioned a million times here, I have had a lot of pretty crappy jobs, but the one thing that I can say is that each and every one of them has opened my eyes to a new world of wonder and stupidity. At this point I truly do think that I have seen it all. From the Housing Authority, where I once saw a girl I knew from high school getting screwed on an open window sill while cutting her grass, to the newspaper where every day brought new possibilities of psychopaths, crazy townies and the discovery of dead people. Now I am bar tending at one of the more popular tourist spots in Salem, which means three things. There are a lot of idiot tourists, a lot of idiot college kids and a lot of weirdos.

I have shared many a story here about people trying to pay with skateboards or shitting their pants while waiting for take out meatloaf, but those are the outrageous stories. Those are the once in a while, 'I can't believe that just happened' type of thing. What really stresses me out about working at the bar is the day to day dance with stupidity that we all have to handle, and the inevitable nightly series of events that, on the wrong night, could easily end up getting you canned.

I guess all of this is on my mind because last night was just one of those typical nights where I get home, lay in bed and say to myself 'What the hell was that?' I'll explain. Picture yourself as the lone bartender behind a 36-seat horseshoe on a Wednesday night. There are some sports on the TV and some music playing in the background, it is not busy. Now I will take you on a journey through my night.

The restaurant that I work at is locally owned, but run as a corporate entity with several locations in and around Boston. Most of our jobs hang from a small thread, as we are required to memorize menus, recite corporate speeches and always be on the lookout for 'secret shoppers,' in other words, people with nothing better to do than come in to restaurants and grade their servers based on a list given to them by corporate. The slightest slip up in any area can get you suspended or fired. I've seen it happen a thousand times.

As most of you know, I am pretty short tempered. I have little patience and, when you are stupid, that patience is pretty much non existent. One of, if not my biggest pet peeve at the bar is when people don't listen. As a bar that brews our own beer we have a list of what is on tap up on the wall. When someone comes in and orderes a Miller Light I respond with "Actually, we only carry the beer that we make, they are all listed on the back wall, but if you are looking for a Miller Light you might like (insert appropriate beer here)." Simple, right? You would think so. Unfortunately, more often than not, people will respond with "I'll just take a Guinness then." Really? Do you see the word Guinness up on the wall? No. You don't. Now I get to pick.

There was certainly a lot of that going on last night as always, but the stupidest moment came from a mid-20's looking blond dude with a fake tan. A girl came in to the bar and ordered a beer, saying that she was waiting for a friend. Her ID said she had turned 21 three days ago. I said congratulations and got her the beer. Said friend, blond tan man, arrived shortly after with the greeting of "I'll have one of them," pointing to her beer. I always love it when customers surpass "hello" and just go straight to what they want to order. That is really a great way to start off with a server. Really it is. Honestly. We hate being treated like people.

I asked the man for his ID, even though he was clearly older than the girl, because, well, I am a bartender. I don't fuck around with that sort of thing. What followed was one of the classically stupid conversations of all time.

"Aw, man, I don't have it. I was born in 1979 though."

"Sorry man, I can't serve you without ID."

"Really? I come here all the time! I live right next door!" (This means, by the way, that he either lives at the New England Pirate Museum or a Dunkin Donuts).

"Sorry man, I can't serve you without ID. Your friend turned 21 three days ago, come on."

"Well, is Griff here?" (Referring to a popular former employee who left several months ago, refuting his earlier claims to have 'come her all the time).

"No, Griff doesn't work here anymore. I'm sorry man. I can't serve you."

(Girl chiming in.) "He goes to bars with me all of the time!"

(Man again) "Yeah man, I was a bartender for years, we just wanted to have one beer and some food. I'm not a cop."

Ok, so, if you are paying attention, the tan man who is not a cop and either lives at the Pirate Museum or Dunkin Donuts has claimed to come here all of the time, even though the one person he knows has been gone for months, and is now also claiming to have worked as a bartender. Which begs the question, if you have worked as a bartender, and you know you wanted a beer, why don't you have your ID? Furthermore, why are you arguing with me about asking for your ID? Because you are stupid. That is why. Complete f-ing moron.

As if that weren't enough, my last customer of the night was a girl who worked at a restaurant down the street. She was drinking blueberry beer and playing pool, seemingly harmless. Apparently, the third beer pushed her over the edge, though, because she decided to seek out the manager so that she could tell him that I was doing a great job. This would have been nice if she only did it once. Instead, she told him every time he walked by, eventually changing my name to "Ben" and later "Pat" and finally telling him that she would "love to work here instead of where she works, but I'm probably too drunk to interview, huh?" Yeah. Probably.

This, aside from, again, being very stupid, also means that the manager lingered around the bar until she left, seemingly making sure that I cut her off, but succeeding only in making her stay longer because she continued to speak to him. As a result, I was forced to delay some of my closing work, as I was inevitably drawn in to the conversation, and forced to endure an "over serving" lecture after she left. Now do you see why it is difficult to sleep after a night working at this job? One of, if not all of the above things happens every single night. It is a good thing I don't have to get up and do that every day.

Sorry to stray from the baby so much lately, not much going on other than park trips and fit throwing. I'll get some video up soon.

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