Blustery Days

The last couple of days here in NYC have been pretty rough on us. And there is no sign of it getting any better. In fact, it seems as though our lovely city has decided to skip autumn all together and head straight into winter. The high today was 41. That, my dear friends, is winter weather. Yesterday it poured rain on top of the cold – I swear we are going to have snow before Thanksgiving. I headed off to the bar in what is best described by Winnie the Pooh as “blustery” weather:

rainy and cold - but resourceful!

The bar was how I had expected it to be that night: slow and miserable. The thing about the change in the weather is that for the first week, no one comes out of their house. Once everyone has come to terms with the fact that the weather is terrible and not going to get any better they start to venture out again. Seeing as how the weather has taken a complete nose-dive, I have no customers but my regulars. Which is fine and dandy and all, but it also means that I am make 1/3 of what I am used to. This is not a good sign with a wedding coming up.

Nonetheless, last night was particularly painful for two reasons: the first being that I aided and abided an affair at my bar. Thats the part of the job that I HATE. The fact that I am the enabler to many peoples alcoholism is guilt enough, but the affairs are what kills me. This couple comes to sit at the bar, him ordering a beer, and her a vodka cranberry, and they proceed to go to town on each other at my bar like this:

please, stop!

However, the couple in this particular photograph are tame compared to my 40-something customers. We deduced that they were having an affair based on two pieces of evidence: wedding ring on his hand, none on hers, and the fact that she was rubbing his crotch while sticking her tongue down his throat like that in public. Married people do not do that. Teenagers don’t even do that in a well lit restaurant! They had to be sneaking around.

So, me, freaking out, I realize that I have to say something. Given my lack of managerial support, I recognize I am going to have to say something to them, and its killing me. I turn around to give them a speech and find my manager offering them the booth in the back, where they might have more privacy. Aka stop with the crotch grabbing out in the open. I was shocked! Our manager actually helping me out!

Not only did I have the affair to deal with, I also had TWO customers walk out on their bills last night. Not only was I making no money to begin with I now had to deal with two unpaid checks. Not okay. The frist was a regular who was very drunk. I told him he hadn’t paid, gave him the check, turned around and he was gone, leaving three dollars on the tab worth 13. Meaning he assumed that he had already paid me. Understandable, but still sucks for me.

The other guy was a total jerk. He got all pissed that we didn’t take Visa, and when I apologized profusely for the inconvenience he said he would go get cash. (See, the thing is, people get pissed over a policy I have ZERO control over. Do you think I enjoy getting yelled at and stiffed? No. I do not.) So this guy gets up to leave, turns to me at the door and says, “By the way, I’ll come back and pay this tomorrow” and walks out. Meaning that I again get no tip, and have another open check. This is the classic example of a guy who has never worked, or known anyone who has worked in the food service industry. I could have cried. It’s not my policy and again I get screwed.

I had a terrible night at the bar, and I can honestly say if I don’t start making money soon I’m going to have to look elsewhere for a job. I really like this bar because of its hours and proximity to my house, but to be honest I could be making a lot more elsewhere, especially in the city. Oh well…

Sorry to be such a downer – but the blog is called Confessions of a Brooklyn Bartender.