As a bartender, I am aware of what you – the customer – expect of me. You would like your drink made quickly and with flair. You want me to be someone to dream about, someone to talk to and someone to care. And I offer you these qualities for the measly price of a drink. I am happy to do it. However, my ability to be good at my job does depend on you; enough bad customers in a night and not only do I find it next to impossible to smile or give a shit that you lost your scarf but I also go home and think of death. Yes, death. I think of all the time wasted, of youth destroyed, of the sorrowful neglect of the finer things in life. I lay in my bed, ears still ringing from the din of your conversations, feeling as though my life is slipping away into the fog of your hangover.

To save me from those murky ponderings, I offer this missive in the hopes that a few of you will be kinder. Kindness and politeness are not just traits of a good customer, they are also qualities expected of a human being. But just in case your lack of respect stems from ignorance, I would like the opportunity to explain what is required of you so we can all continue to have a place where woes are turned into joys and warmth bathes us all like a fine scotch.

The Tip: This silly little issue still manages to cause all sorts of debate. Here is the equation:
1 Drink + $1=Happy Bartender


This is pretty simple and requires no advanced math. However, if one would like to have a more specific breakdown, here is how it works:

A dollar for two bottles of beer is fine; a dollar for a cosmo and a martini is not

If the bartender does something extra for you (holds your jacket, gives you snacks, pours you water, listens to your woes or hooks you up with the cute musician guy), a tip is greatly appreciated. It is not demanded, however your second water or snack may be served with a snarl. Why? I am not your mother. It is not my destiny to take care of all your needs. I am happy to do it if it is duly appreciated and often paid for. You are out in public, engaging in the world of commerce; if you don't like capitalism, become a communist and make your own beer. If you think the tip is a gift, think again – it is what you pay to be served. Any millionaire who requires the service of a hotel concierge knows this. Service is never free.

The tip is not a fee for the simple transaction of delivering a drink to your hands. Yes, you can get a cheaper bottle of beer at the store; yes, you can go to dive bars where a quarter is taken without comment, and yes, a monkey could open a bottle of Bud. But a tip is not about a transaction. Tips are about the bigger picture.

Other things a bartender may provide:
We often supply the music, paid for out-of-pocket, which requires a critical, cultural ear. Providing music also requires sensitivity to the requests and interests of our customers. We research, we prowl the collections of local record stores and we do care about your drinking entertainment.

We dress to impress, an expense that also comes from our own pockets and demands a sense of style. Not only do we look good (something appreciated by those who enjoy beauty and like to fantasize about their bartender), but we also have extensive, inner-circle knowledge of hair stylists, hip designers and groovy little neighborhood shops. We understand that presentation is an important addition to your drinking entertainment.

We defuse fights, protect you from harassment and facilitate conversation.

On my days off, I struggle to step outside of that “fun” service persona. I have to spend a lot of time alone and my continued faith and delight in humanity requires an act of will akin to chewing off your own foot when caught in a trap.

I do not say this to get sympathy or to insist that our lives are more difficult than anyone else’s. I merely state it because those who think that we are glamorous are the ones who fatigue us the most.

Yes, I do get to talk to all the hotties that come in but that does not mean that I have any more success with romance than you do. In fact, bartenders are notoriously flawed in that department.

Our lifestyles, our personas, people’s illusions and the fact that we spend our lives with drunk people makes solid, stable relationships rather difficult.

All in all, an ideal customer recognizes that bartenders are human beings with feelings. So this customer responds with a “hello” when the bartender greets them.

We generally try to make your drinking environment pleasant, inviting and safe. You can get sloppy precisely because we are looking out for you.

We sweep up your crumbs, get your colds, clean up your puke and listen to you babble on about your issues with work, women, whatever. We provide our talent, personality and intelligence so that you can have a break from your worries and woes.

Bartenders are a peculiar breed of people who are predominately independent and delight in engaging with people. The reason that you get to enjoy attractive and interesting people serving you cocktails is because we make a decent amount of money in a short amount of time. Take away the tip and you will get inefficient, and perhaps less stellar, people to serve you. If you don’t believe me, go to the Tenderloin or to a London pub.

And contrary to popular assumption, bartending is not fun. It is work, and part of our work is making you believe that we are having fun. The only bartenders who think that it is fun are those under the age of twenty-three who do it while they are in school and generally only bartend for a couple of months at a time. As a profession it is as fraught with all of the stresses, rages and fatigue as is any other profession. Being able to talk to hundreds of people is only romantic and exciting to those who don’t do it all the time. After all my years as a bartender I have actually been changed by this fact. My boyfriend, my mother and my friends suffer from my fatigue of being an ear for so many.

I cannot tell you how many times a night I say, “Hello, how are you?” and get in response, “Yeah, get me a …” That is rude no matter where you are. Bartenders are often too busy to have a full conversation but we are never too busy for simple politeness.

A “thank you” is also nice; I consider it civilized urban behavior. I am gracious to waiters, shopkeepers, the toll taker, the guy at the deli, the telephone operator – in fact, anyone I come into contact with. As a result of this graciousness, I have formed relationships with the people who work in my neighborhood and I have been rewarded with smiles, gifts, help and the knowledge that I have respected another human being in my environment. Friends can sometimes be a pain in the ass, sometimes life leaves us lonely and alienated, and sometimes the pressures of social interaction require too much effort. And so it is precisely those people who serve the public who can make one feel at home, cared for and recognized.

To those customers who are always a delight to serve, those who are respectful, aware and understand how much they are given, I offer my deep gratitude. To those who contribute to my night terrors, I ask you to understand that you get back what you give, and that this world would be a more joyful place if we could learn to respect one another.

Ginger Murray tends bar at the Lone Palm, and is also the editor of Whore! magazine (www.whoremagazine.net)

     
 
Return to features page