Lessons in Bartending

When I first started serving back in 2008, I found that the restaurant/bar life provided daily entertainment. If it wasn't the scandal between co-workers, it was the guests themselves. I found bras on cars, had cake thrown at me, had parties that broke things and businessmen that walked out on their tab in the middle of the day. I've also had the pleasure of a pure creep tell me he wanted to draw me as a sexy cowgirl. I had a blog briefly dedicated to the stories that unfolded each night at the bar and grill I worked at. 

For real, you find all the types of people at the restaurant. And there is no exception at a bar in Edinburgh. 

Now It's only been a few months (if that) that I've had the pleasure of playing barkeep. I've managed the accents, the weird names of beer and the requests for our three dozen types of whiskies. But I've also noticed that there are some dire lessons to be learned — some that are the same for whatever bar you're at, and some that seem to be more culturally-based. 

Don't Miss Pour Your Beer 

An intersting difference between pouring beer in Scotland versus America is the thickness of the head (the foam on top). Back in America, if it wasn't one inch, it was pour wrong. You better hold that glass at a 45-degree angle until just the right time. But in Scotland, the head is only supposed to be 10% of the beer. In English, minimal. And if that glass isn't basically overflowing, you've under-poured. You wouldn't think people would be that fussy about it, but trust me, they notice everything. 

This goes for the wines as well. It's remarkable how patrons at this bar know what's up. I had one guy ask me to get his beer for free because the head wasn't right. 

Lesson learned. 

Don't Cut Off the Irish 

This is obviously a generalization, but it also might be an accurate portrayal of all Irishmen. We had some cheeky fellows come in a few weeks back, celebrating after a hard day's work. The drinks were a-flowin' and they were jolly and loud. As the night went on, their jolly-ness reached critical levels — and so did their language. After my manager told them to tone it done twice, she decided to cut them off. This was a mistake of epic proportions. In particular, one of the four gentlemen found this outrageous and proceeded to yell at her, asking her on whose authority she was cutting them off and to pour them another [profanity inserted here] beer. 

Now for me, this prompted me to hide on the other side of this circular bar. But everyone else felt the need to support the manager and even give them attitude back. These co-workers seem to be given energy from people like this. I tend to cower. It's a trait they possess that I'm impressed by and hope to learn someday. 

Needless to say, the men eventually left, but they threw a fit the whole way out. I don't know if the next morning it was all a blur for them or not, but I have a good feeling they won't be back anytime soon. 

Become a Professional at Skiving 

This term is essentially the skill of slacking off at work. The bar definitely gets busy. I mean, rows and rows of people deep, kind of busy. It's chaos. This happens usually before a show starts next door, a rugby or football game is on or it's a Saturday night. But there is a lot of time when it's slow. Painfully slow. Back in America, the restaurant stayed fairly busy. Not in a run around crazy all the time sort of way, but enough to keep you moving. And if it wasn't busy, they'd let someone go home. This is rarely the case here. 

So how do you fill your time? By skiving. The best way to look busy without actually being busy is polishing wine glasses. Because of the amount of wine that is consumed in our bar, it feels like there are always wine glasses to polish. Can't have them spotty now can we? And you want to make sure they are completely bright and sparkly. This takes time. Precision. So if you need a break, this is where it's at. 

I haven't found out the other good forms of skiving, but I'm sure I will sooner than later. Folding napkins possibly. That seems to take forever. Or polishing silverware. These co-workers know what they're doing, and I will glean all I can from them. 

Make Sure Customers Eat Together — or Else

There are some really good qualities about the kitchen at the restaurant. Almost everything is made from scratch (sans dressings and so on). It's impressive. And delicious. However, when things are made this way and someone sends something back, the time until they get a new plate feels like a full 24 hours. I'm used to working at a chain restaurant where if their wings aren't hot enough, you throw them in the fryer for a good 30 seconds. Fries are cold? Throw them in the fryer (or get them fresh ones). Fryers save lives. Or time. You get the point. 

So when I had a table that their neeps and tatties (neeps are mashed turnips and tatties are mashed potatoes) were on a the chillier side of hot, I sent it back down to the kitchen to deal with. Unfortunately, this led to the couple to eating their meals separately. Whoops. And because I'm still new to how things are done here, I didn't offer them dessert or a discount. Long story short, we got a bad review. Apparently its the first bad review we've had for a long time, too. Leave it to the American to destroy all things. 

Control Your Drinking Habits

I think the managers want me to be drunk after all of my shifts. Okay, maybe they just want me to be European. I am a lightweight. Get me one margarita at the start of dinner and I'm tipsy before the main courses arrive. And that's the way I like it. But here, you get a staff drink after your shift. Or sometimes they'll give away free shots (my new favorite shot: Baby Guinness) or give you miss-pours. The list goes on. There always seems to be a reason to give you another drink. 

This, of course, could get dangerous, so I typically only take one drink a week. Queue the half pint of cider. That's my go-to. But if someone offers me one of those Baby Guinness's... 

Needless to say, make a conscious decision to NOT become a heavy drinker. 

Working on my bartending skills. At home. With a drink we don't make at the bar. 

Change The Way You Sleep 

In my professional life, I'd wake up at 5:15, get to work by 7-7:30, and be home by 5:30. Sleep happened by 10:30 (really 11, let's be real) and this was my typical Monday thru Friday. I like that life. Sure, early rising is not my thing, but this is the adult world. Everyone else is pretty much on the same schedule. You don't feel like you're missing out ever. 

The bartending world is basically the exact opposite. I'm lucky to be out of bed by 10am. I now start work while others are commuting home from a long day. I'm the place people go to to burn off steam from a workday that was busy or stressful. Most nights, I don't get off until at least 11, unless I'm closing at then it's 12:30 (or 1:30 on Fridays and Saturdays). This is not a new lifestyle for me. I lived it for 6+ years back in the States. I'm more of a night owl than an early riser. But I've grown accustomed to my professional lifestyle. I like my weekends free for adventure. My nights open for dinners and drinks. 

The silver lining: with the days becoming incredibly short (the sun sets at around 4pm currently) it's dark no matter what. And my husband is in school and working nights as well. 

Don't Take it Too Seriously 

At the end of the day, it's not life or death. It's dinner and drinks. It's making friendships from different backgrounds and experiencing life in a different culture. Definitely a quick way to learn what life in Edinburgh is like. Granted we get a lot of Americans into our bar (It's next to several hotels) but we also get people from all over Europe. 

Because our time here is short and because this isn't my professional goal, I know I can work hard, but leave it all behind at bar close. So for now, I'll live it up (in moderation of course) and live that bartending lifestyle... while still getting to bed long before my coworkers do. 

Truth

Always,

A