The easiest job

*lifts chair, sighs*
“Oh, it’s a tough life!”
Sarcasm notes detected, “Well… it would be if you had to do it full time,”
“You’ll be alright then. Part time?”
“No, I’m full time.”

Do you know, I have finally figured out why retail, hospitality and laborer staff are paid so little money. It’s not because the work is easier by any means- what difficulties you have in office work are swapped out for physical exertion. It’s that people think your job is easy.

I should have known it would come back to that Bloom imperative; money is good faith. It’s the emotion you pour into it when you earn it, give it away or hoard it. There’s work that needs doing, so the managerial staff in bars and shops stay and do it thereby pushing hours worked well over the lawful 50 max a week. Even with the profits margins built for building up-keep, other staffs wages and development of the venue there is still not enough to pay these hard working members their due. They all do it for different reasons, but it’s in cities and towns all across the country. The love of the job, the ambition to progress, the duty to the company or the support of the team, whatever it is that keeps them going just for them to do it all again the following week. It’s good enough that they believe in what their doing and so continue, whether it is only a belief or not.

It’s the customers that haven’t the faintest clue that really make me laugh. There’s a bartender looking at you, who has just gone past her 60th hour that week, who has a combined caffeine and nicotine craving, who is still smiling despite the fact she should have lost patience for you 5 minutes ago, and your response is to patronizingly repeat your entire order for a family of four exactly the same way you said it the first time because she asked if it was to be a large or small glass of pinot grigio for your wife. Had it been me I would have cut him off by rudely repeating the order louder than him, but no… She allowed him to finish and asked politely again with an added explanation as to why the volume is an important thing to mention. Would your wife like to get drunk quicker or slower? Do you know what, I think she’ll want it to be quicker- the sooner to her not registering your obnoxious BS.

My apologies that this post is so negative. I should warn you, it continues on the same vein. I’m in a bad mood.

Stag nights. I can’t say much for the hen parties; I’ve never been cajoled by the ladies. If what I describe applies to the treatment of male bartenders hosting for hen do’s then at least we can say that there isn’t a gender disparity. The Gents love to tease their engaged mate something rotten, and the theme tends to follow the notion of reminding them that they are going to be with the same woman for the rest of their married life (however long that ends up being) and that there are a wealth of beautiful women they will never be allowed to go anywhere near, but may well want to. A lot of the time, as we know, this is why strippers are hired as if the enforced lap dance is going to make them long instead for loveless sex that never satisfies them. If one has not been arranged it tends to devolve instead into a pretty bartender being singled out and cajoled for the rest of the evening.

Do you know what, the Grooms-to-be tend to be alright guys, hence why they have managed to build a successful enough relationship that they will soon be declaring to their God, family and the law. They know what their mates are trying to do and have varying degrees of appreciation of how irritating it is for the bartender. Where they can they will get you to play along or conceal so as to keep the rabble manageable.
The degrading objectification is hard to deal with, however. What no one seems to get is that this is not the first party of people you have served that day, and isn’t even the first party to try and distract you like that. It will be the most objectifying thing that’s happened to you that week, but rest assured someone else is getting married next week and will also visit with a group of womanizers. Your wedding, your stag do does indeed only happen once (or at least that’s the intention) and congratulations; have a great time. But the bartender is neither your party organizer or a stripper, so leave them the fuck alone.

Things like a shot of coke for their jager, a fake name and number do no harm. But tips for bartenders in that situation: blowing kisses instead of a peck on the cheek is no better, just don’t play along for that; don’t lean over and touch them; don’t let them lie on the bar; and if you just can’t someone else can serve them, that’s perfectly alright. A lot of the time if you start to play along with no reservations it will only escalate and won’t be long before they are asking you to do things that are totally inappropriate.
People say that it’s just good fun- and that’s cool. If you’re comfortable playing along, go for it. You’ll be well loved, get plenty of tips and trip adviser kudos. Just don’t forget why they started singling you out in the first place. It’s not because they knew you’d be cool with it or that you’re fun and entertaining. They had no idea if you’d be okay and didn’t care to find out. It’s because you’re pretty, and that’s all.


About oreoanonymous

A drop-out marine biology student from Scotland. Certainly some cursing will be bandied about.
This entry was posted in feminism, Personal blog, Working life and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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