Baaaartenderrrrrrr

There's some hip hop/R&B song about bartenders that I was trying to sing in the subject of this post. I have no idea what it's called or who it's by. But there you have it. A singing blog post! What will they think of next?

So yesterdayyyyy I put on my head to toe black outfit, packed up my bottle opener and headed to Slate for my guest bartending shindig. The only other time I had been to Slate was to go speed dating a few years ago. Oh, hilarity.

The woman with whom I had been coordinating told me at the last minute that she wasn't going to be there last night, and gave me the name of someone else I should speak to (do you like how only half of this sentence is grammatically correct? I do!). So I walk in at 5:40 and ask for this dude. No one knows who he is. I wait 10 minutes, then ask if there is someone ELSE I can speak to. I'm told to go sit by the bar. And I do.

As I sit at the bar, I find out that the 2 people next to me are also guest bartending. They're raising money for Team in Training and so are donating all their tips to charity. I...am not a good person.

My shift is supposed to start at 6. At 6:05, 2 friends come in.

"Hey, you're on the wrong side of the bar!"

At 6:15, 2 more friends come in.

"Hey, you're on the wrong side of the bar!"

At 6:20, another friend walks in and...you get the idea.

At 6:25, my guests and I are not happy. My shift only goes until 8:30 so it's sort of ridiculous that a large chunk of it has already passed. I want the practice and, of course, I want the money.

At 6:40, my fellow guest bartenders and I are finally given the green light. I already have 7 friends ready and waiting.

This bar is NOTHING like the one at bartending school. The bottles are in different places, the juices are in different places, the soda gun has a "G Ale" button for...no, not ginger ale, but Sprite, and the water and soda buttons are UNMARKED. Number of times I confused the 2 UNMARKED FUCKING BUTTONS and gave someone water instead of soda or vice versa: thankfully only once.

My wonderful friends were wonderfully fabulous and lots of people came out to have me make them drinks. No one complained about my drinks which either means they were too nice to tell me I suck or I AM THE BEST BARTENDER OF ALL TIMEEEEEEEE. Or, you know, it's not that hard to make a vodka cranberry. However, I was able to give Lacey's fiance Dave a successful drink recommendation based on him saying, "What can I have with Chambord in it?" I had never made a Nuts and Berries before but I have to say, I tried his and it was delicious.

At around 7:15, I see the regular bartender who is assigned to help me, a very tall man who is cute in the not-at-all-my-type sort of way, take tips that are mine and put them in his bucket. In response, I do absolutely nothing because I have no power or authority here. Grumble. Though this is the only time I see him do this, I do see him on several occasions try to make my friends drinks when he is really NOT supposed to be doing this at all. Thankfully, a few of my friends tell him they want ME to make their drinks (YAY).

At 8:30, my shift ends. My bartender helper, who really was extremely nice when he wasn't stealing my tips and my customers, makes me a delicious dirty martini on the house. I do not tip him, but this is because the manager put my purse away since I couldn't have it behind the bar. But I don't feel bad and I'm not convinced I would have tipped him anyway.

At around 8:45, I finally find the manager and, subsequently, my purse. I remind him that he has yet to give me my money. At about 8:55, he counts my cash, takes out 20% for the bar (I had been told it would only be 15%), and gives me the rest. I have no idea if this cash includes the tips from my friends who opened tabs on their credit cards, but I sort of suspect it doesn't. I come away with $45.

I want to complain about only making $45, but I really can't. It was less than 2 hours of work and I had a blast doing it, all things considered. I have no idea what I might have made if I got in that extra 40 minutes of bartending or if I got ALL the money I deserved, but...hey, $45! Mostly in singles! STRIP CLUB, HERE I COME.

The evening affirmed that: a) my friends are awesome and supportive, b) I totally want to get a real bartending job when I move back to Boston, and c) some people are shady.

The end!