One I Wrote Before I Quit
*An old one that I never posted. It's a repeat of everything I've ever said in this blog x2, but I can tell I wrote it in my last few weeks in the bar. My frustrations are evident.
As if my recommendations mean a shit to anyone, here's a few things that I would prefer you all not do tonight during your journey to an alcohol poisoning induced trip to the ER.
- Don't touch me. If I'm not making eye contact with you, then there's a reason for that. It means I'm not ready to take your order. If I'm not responding to your desperate pleas for me to pay attention to you, then don't reach across the bar and tap me. I'll get your 2 miller lights in just a second when I take care of the other 3 orders that are in my head right now. Yelling in my ear doesn't help your cause, either. Seriously, I'm about to break some fingers/hands over this one.
- Tip. I'm busy as shit. No...really. I am. Maybe my service isn't as fast as you'd like, but about 800 people have crammed themselves into the bar tonight and and apparently are thirsty as shit, and want me, specifically, to serve them tonight for some reason. Suffice to say, I might not be able to pop that beer open for you as quickly as you'd like. Please be understanding, I can only move so fast. But believe me, I'll find time to call your ass out like I did to the demanding douschebag last night who stiffed me on a $30 tab because I wouldn't serve him at 2:03am. He ended up giving me $2 in cash and apologizing after I pointed out his douschebaggery, but of course his girlfriend had to step in and get an attitude after we had resolve the issue. The fat girl got thrown out and I made two extra bucks. I also made sure to point out her fattness to her as she was escorted towards the door. Again...yes. I am an asshole. Fuck off.
- It's fucking basics, people. Let's get back to them. Have your shit ready, dammit! That means your order and money are ready to go, which means in your fucking hand, not your wallet. Don't have it ready to go? I've moved on to the next person before you know what's happening. If I'm waiting on you to pay me, that means everyone else is waiting on you. Once you've placed your order, it shouldn't change. I can't stand the 3 shots of patron that I make that magically end up being 4 shots of patron...oh wait, no, better make that 5 shots of patron. ALL. AT. ONCE. PLEASE.
- No, I didn't find your keys and/or cell phone. No, I don't have your tab open behind this bar. I closed it out for you 30 minutes ago, remember? No, I haven't seen your girlfriend. Yes, our cheapest beer is PBR and it's $2. No, you can't pay me in pennies and dimes. The lights are one because we're done for the night and no, that means I won't serve you one more shot. The extra $5 bill you're dangling in front of me hardly tempts me to break the law and risk our liquor license.
- Standard shit: If you fight, you get thrown out. If you steal, you get thrown out. If you puke somewhere, you get thrown out. If you're a chick, don't go in the guys room. If you're a guy, don't go in the girls room. Keep your fucking clothes on, fattass. Nobody wants to see your jiggly oversized fat ass humping the underaged sorority girl reject trying to act like a stripper. Don't break any of the following: the mirrors, soap dispensers, the bathroom doors, the urinals or toilets or any stall doors, pool ques or anything protruding from the wall like lights, beer mirrors or neons. I've laughed at many a tough-guy wannabe who thought punching the wall was a fun thing to do while drunk, but ended up breaking their hand. Funny to me, painful to you. Don't give the door guys shit. Don't call the female bartenders bitches.
So yea, you're not in a fucking church, but this isn't a lawless land of streams of never-ending booze and willing 19 year olds just waiting to blow you in the corner with door guys and bartenders filling your every need without question, and most importantly, payment.
So please, keep that in mind.