I’ve always said bartending is “all acting and it’s all bullshit.” The hardest part of the hospitality industry is having to be the life of the party and pretending to be happy for everyone, when your whole world is collapsing. It’s not the customers fault, usually, you aren’t having a bad day, I had to remind myself often. No matter what’s going on in your life you have to put it aside when you work through the door.
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I was introverted by nature and always hoped the industry would make me more gregarious. When I started bartending I didn’t really like people and nearly 20 years later… I still don’t particularly like people. But I’ve learned most of them are decent, if often messy, and I learned to have more empathy. Looking back I probably should have done another line of work but at least I learned alot about human beings. You can’t really understand people from books or interacting with them online… you need to be thrown into their midst to sink or swim.
Thus, it was hard for me, especially during my first years of bartending, to adapt to a people-intensive industry. Small talk, story-telling, building rapport, and even basic conversation should be simple, but many people struggle with them. Some people are naturally sociable and pick up these skills easily, while others study them and slowly exercise them in daily life. Then there’s fools like me, that learnt from imitation and trial and error. Life experience and being a well-rounded person helps… as does showing genuine interest in others.
Such things are obvious in theory but not always simple to implement in practice. In the restaurant industry you’ll be exposed too many different types of people, especially if you move from bar to bar. While you can rarely go wrong by being professional, friendly, and polite, there’s more to that to establish connection and rapport. You generally won’t talk to church ladies the same way you will to bikers… and the bikers are often more pleasant to be honest.
Then there’s the inherent chaos and unpredictability of the bar industry. Serving dozens or even hundreds of customers per day can be stressful, as is constant multi-tasking and remembering countless details. There’s also conflict, harassment, and volatile emotions at times. Drugs, alcohol, and even the potential of violence, complement this volatile mix. While most days are relatively normal and boring, human nature predisposes many to remember the bad times more than the good.
The point being is once you develop the necessarily social skills it’s easy to talk to a few tables or customers but it becomes harder when the place fills up, as your time and efforts are stretched further and further. Then issues of conflict, stress, and finally one’s personal issues conspire to compound this. At a certain point it can be hard to maintain a smile, small talk, even a friendly disposition, when all the shit hits the fan. Hence my mantra it’s “all acting and it’s all bullshit.”
But even the coolest and most experienced bartender can lose it, especially when one too many drunken asshole gets in their face. Even the sweetest waitress will eventually tell a guy to fuck off after being aggressively hit on for the umpteenth time that week… or day.
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The Switch refers to that moment you walk through the door and go into what I call “industry mode.” You can wake up and cry into your pillow and you can curse and whine during the commute to work. You can listen to that last song, smoke one more cigarette, or even down a quick drink in the last minutes before work. But then you have to sigh, take a deep breath, say fuck it, and walk into your shift.
There’s a lot of things restaurant staff think about during the slow, grinding minutes before their shifts. Specific personal issues like strained relationships, substance abuse, and physical and mental health. Financial insecurity, family tragedies, and other things that impact most people. Industry related things like out of touch corporations, toxic management and colleagues, and rude and even creepy customers. Or how to find someone to look after their kid(s) when they work at night, to pay rent when tips are low… or maintain constant composure after a barrage of sexual harassment, bullying, and rudeness.
That’s why so many bartenders, servers, and cooks work hard and play harder. It’s why they have constant smoke breaks, drink on the job, and down countless Red Bulls. That’s why after hours drinks are normal and drug use is frequent. It’s why hookups and flings are common, while it’s hard to establish real connections and healthy relationships.
Not every place is like this and maybe I’ve been unlucky in my career, but most industry people understand and relate. Either way, once you walk through that door you’re expected to perform, charm, entertain, and give what Bryon called “perceived value.” Because people don’t necessarily pay for the product.. as they can get take out or make food at home. People pay for the atmosphere and experiences.
There’s a reason restaurants tend to hire good looking staff and have them wear… provocative clothes. Why music, lighting, and TVs need to be calibrated strategically. Why Wi-Fi is a necessity, events are organized, and specials are created.
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But attractive staff, music, and events aren’t enough to create effective atmosphere and memorable experiences. I’ve worked at corporate places where they’ve mastered these things but the staff were cold, unprofessional, and frankly boring. They took orders, brought meals, acquired payment, counted tips, then went home. They created many things, like a well-oiled machine that looks good, but they rarely created atmosphere. Customers got decent service and good food, but they rarely felt appreciated or valued.
I’ve also worked at dive bars with less gimmicks and spartan atmospheres, where the staff were warm, relatable, and interesting. They learnt names, told stories, built relationships, and bought customers drinks. They created atmosphere and memorable moments through sheer will and emotional intelligence. Customers were guests, not statistics, and felt more conformable and at home.
Maybe much of this was acting… but at least the dive bars and their staffs constantly tried. Because the only thing that guarantees such results is the men and women of the industry. The ones who put their personal issues aside and make that “switch” between personal demons and professionalism within the 10 seconds from the parking lot to the front door.
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My favourite moment of every night was locking the doors when the last customer left and we could finally drop the act and be ourselves. We’d pour ourselves drinks, make fun of the worst customers, and decompress. Maybe that wasn’t always healthy, but it was often necessary, especially after a rough night.
But the problem of acting for years or decades is that it becomes part of your personality, whether you like it or not. Because to this day many of my personal interactions are shallow, quick, based on instinct, and sizing someone up immediately. And it takes a long time to realize in the real world people aren’t as drunk, high, and obnoxious as so many are in the bar industry.