The Strange Job That Is Bartending

There’s a reason why people want to be a bartender; there seems to be an inexplicable, sexy allure to it. There is something appealing about getting to host a party every night and to be the center of everyone’s attention. Of course, it’s not as glamorous as one would think. Bartending is not a non-stop party, thanks to our friends at the O.L.C.C. They say Portland has some of the most unfriendly bartenders. But, that’s due to the fact that you can drink and we cant. No one wants to hang out with the sober guy when you’re drinking, and in this town, that’s your bartender, by law.

It is a really great job, however—you can make an okay wage. Despite what local papers have reported, no one in the bar industry is rich. The idea that we make near six figures is ridiculous— most of us barely make a living wage and our income is completely unpredictable, but it is a fantastic line of work. The benefits include having flexibility and freedom, which allows us to pursue interests that don’t pay the bills (but, are passionate about, such as music or writing, like yours truly). Most of us love to travel and this line of work allows us to do so. We can take vacations whenever we want, take days off whenever we feel like it and no one cares...as long as we get our shifts covered. Our job duties and expectations are clearly defined, and as long as we do them, we have a job.

Bartenders usually work independently and aren’t micromanaged. Things can be stressful, but you leave that at the door. I gladly traded in my corporate salary for less money and the ability to rest my head at night—knowing what I’m walking into the next day. Some things are priceless. There have been countless times my coworkers and I have uttered the remark, "this job is weird" to each other. It is fucking weird. In addition to the basic, obvious duties of the job, such as pouring booze in cups, keeping things clean (and to health code), managing the money and locking the place up at night, this job demands so much more than most people even realize. I invite you to step in the shoes of the average Portland bartender.

Running A Business

A bar owner leaves a lot in the hands of the bartender on duty. That’s why it’s so hard to break into the industry in this town. You pretty much have to know a lot of people who will vouch for you, in order for a business owner to trust you to run their livelihood. You are responsible for the speed of service—no one wants to wait around forever for a drink. You also need to be fun, friendly and know how to create a welcoming environment. You need to ensure the temperature of the bar is comfortable for everyone. It doesn’t really matter if you personally are rolling in sweat—if the folks in your bar are sitting in coats, you’d better put the heat on. It’s about them, not you. Unless you have a DJ, you have to select the music. A smart person behind the bar knows that it really doesn’t matter what they like personally, but more about what the crowd wants to hear. You don’t play metal on a slow Sunday, with a bar full of Tinder dates. You also don’t want to play sad shoe-gaze on a Friday night, full of birthday parties and folks wanting to rage (well, at least the smart bartenders have this figured out). If you want the people to stay and spend their money in your bar, you need to make it fun for them, or else they’ll go on to the next one. This also includes ensuring the tables are clean (ready to sit down at), making sure the bathrooms are nice (fully stocked with towels and soap), ensuring there are plenty of ashtrays available (so the smokers can hang) and it’s a lot to be in charge of, especially when there’s a line out the door.

Administering A Controlled Substance

I’m not going to sit here and criticize the O.L.C.C.—mostly, because I want to keep my job. I will say, though, of the different states I’ve worked in, Oregon bartending is the most complicated. You have to take classes and obtain a license to be a bartender here, and the strangest part is the list of rules regarding over-serving. There is no set amount of drinks you can serve, nor is there a set equation to determine what this amount is. We basically take a class on how to decide whether or not someone is visibly intoxicated. So, we’re allowed to get people drunk, just not too drunk. What’s too drunk? Who knows?! It’s completely up to the bartender’s discretion, but if we choose wrong, we can get our license pulled and we aren’t ever allowed to bartend in Oregon again.

This also means telling a grown adult they can’t buy any more of what you’re selling, even though they want it. People think bartenders get off on control and power. I’ll tell you, that I personally hate it. I don’t enjoy telling an adult that they can’t do what they want. Like, who the hell am I? They might not even be that drunk— I just have to guess. Once, I cut off a guy who seemed fucked up and was acting weird. Turns out, the man was blind. Why do I have to be in charge of this? Not to mention, if someone you’ve been serving leaves your bar and gets a D.U.I.I. or gets into a car accident, YOU are personally held responsible. This includes getting your license taken away, losing your job or being held legally responsible—that is the law. Every single person I serve is a potential liability. This is an immense responsibility that is set squarely on my shoulders, each and every time I work. This much responsibility for a minimum- wage employee? When I ponder this, I really think that bartenders should get paid the irresponsibly-reported $90,000 per year (or whatever utter crap the media has been trying to sell). I guess fact-checkers in reporting just don’t exist anymore [ED: I checked—they don’t], which is a shame, because they are clearly in high-demand.

Adult Babysitting

Drunk people do a lot of stupid shit—stupid shit that you have to monitor and are responsible for, while they are in your establishment. Drunk people climb up on things, steal things, break shit, hurt themselves, hurt others, fall, stumble, disrespect others’ personal space, scream, yell, cry and are otherwise toddlers with credit cards. I find saying shit like, "Do that outside," "Don’t touch that," or "Please do that in the bathroom," every time I work. People will break a glass and I’ll have to stop everything to run around the bar, trying to stop a very drunk person from trying to pick up broken glass with their fingers. It’s endless. Don’t get me started on the hormones that occur. After a few drinks, even patrons with gray hair become horny teenagers, who unabashedly make out with each other, partially disrobe or even begin illicit sexual acts—all in plain view of both myself and the crowded bar. Tantrums, crying, fighting and stealing are not uncommon on any given night. After working in the bar industry as long as I have now, I’m fully convinced I’m overqualified to run a daycare. I know it would be easier—you can usually reason with a child. Try reasoning with a drunk that is convinced you still have his debit card, when you can clearly see it sticking out of his pants pocket.

The Creeps

Maybe it’s because I’m a woman, but one of the very serious roles I take upon myself is watching out for other girls. It’s a fine line, knowing whether or not a girl is getting a little drunk and going home with a guy (by will) or if some asshole is targeting an intoxicated woman, who is about to be in a situation she doesn’t want to be in. I’ve called out douchebags before, who have saddled up on a clearly intoxicated girl, with the intentions of taking her home. I’ll say, "You know she’s very drunk and you’re an asshole if you try anything, right?’ I’ve seen patrons that I’m more than familiar with, straight up making out with a dude I know full-well they wouldn’t be interested in—and, I’ve had to step in. I’ve seen girls on weird Tinder dates and have given them a code word to use if they need help, and some of them have used it. I’m not trying to cock block, but I also can’t let a very drunk person get taken advantage of. Am I supposed to turn a blind eye, if I see someone take a wallet out of a guy’s pants, because he’s too drunk to notice? It’s a huge responsibility. What scares me most is how many of the things I didn’t see and didn’t stop.

Referee

If there’s a bar serving booze, there will be fights. Part of my job is to stop them. I am a small girl. This part of my job is my least favorite. I have had to physically insert my body between two drunk men, beating the absolute shit out of each other, on more than one occasion. I have had to stop drunk girls from slapping the shit out of their boyfriends (or each other). You can’t just stand behind the bar and call the cops—nine times out of ten, shit will escalate and others will get involved. That’s the last thing you want. Roadhouse is a great movie, but you do not want that in your bar. Because, guess what? If a bar fight happens, it could literally mean your job and license.

Bar Bathroom Horrors

A bar bathroom is the stuff of nightmares. I have had to clean up human shit sprayed across the walls, piss puddles, puke, puddles of blood, needles, used condoms, bloody tampons, upper-deckers, even a full-and-forgotten colostomy bag. After a while, it’s sort of like working in a hospital—you become desensitized to it. Unlike a hospital, I’m making minimum wage to clean up human waste.

The Object Of Affection

People become fascinated with their bartenders. They construct an illusion of friendship with them—sometimes something more. It’s the nature of what we do. We chat with you, give you alcohol and give you attention. This can be interpreted in many different ways. Often times, friendliness and customer service is interpreted as flirting. As a bartender, you are a hamster in a cage. You’re trapped behind the bar and you can’t leave. People know when you’re working and when they can find you. Sometimes, a really great regular will make a pass on you and you’re not interested, then they feel embarrassed and never come back. Sometimes, you don’t feel safe walking to your car after work. Some regulars feel way too connected with you and get offended if you don’t give them enough attention or give them hugs. Some regulars will consider you a "best friend," when you’ve never talked to them outside of work. It gets creepy and out of bounds very quickly.

The Ethical Problem

Not to be a downer, but administering a highly addictive substance to folks can get to you. It’s not for me to judge anyone’s personal alcohol consumption. However, it is very difficult to watch those few who are literally killing themselves with it, when you’re giving it to them with a smile. You detach yourself from this fact, for the most part, but every now and then, you feel the weight of what you’re doing. Years ago, I managed a Starbucks and I would see morbidly obese people hooked up to oxygen tanks, ordering Venti Frapps with "extra, extra, extra, caramel and whipped cream," multiple times a day, all the while admitting that the doctor said they’d die if they don’t give up the product I was handing them. The vice industry is a double-edged sword. It pays your bills all the while leaving you feeling guilty.

Bartending Will Change You

Bartending, in particular, gives you a strange ability to read people much more clearly. It’s not about appearance, age, race or orientation. You can simply decide the cool from the not-cool. I’ve become way more accepting of people. I’ve talked to, made friends with, dated, laughed with and got to know people I probably wouldn’t have, before bartending. But, after doing this full-time for a number of years now, I enjoy my personal time, the quiet and being alone to recharge. Crowded bars and loud noises now stress me out. I also find myself finding less time to spend with those casual friends, saving it instead for the few good ones. I enjoy taking myself to a dinner and to a movie alone.

Thank you for reading and TIP YOUR BARTENDER.