April 13th, 2018 {SB}

Ah, service bar, my old friend. How I’ve missed you.

That probably needs a little explanation. In our establishment (a casino) we have two bars. The primary dispensary of booze is known simply as The Lounge. There was in its past a contest to give it a proper name, but nothing ever came of it which would seem to indicate either a lack of participation, or a lack of appropriate participation perhaps. In any event, it’s the larger venue.

By comparison, the service bar sits nestled in a corner next to the main gaming pit, and not too far distant from the buffet, and fairly close to the largest set of bathrooms in the house. It’s smaller by 2/3 at least, if not 3/4. It can be somewhat Jekyl-and-Hyde. During the week, everyone forgets that it’s there, and with fewer people in the house, the cocktail servers can field the guests better, so no one thinks to go looking for it. It’s the deadest location this side of a cemetary. On the weekend, however, there is no better venue in beverage service to work because a.) Your ears aren’t assaulted by loud music and you can hear your guests, b.) it’s located next to all the gamblers, and c.) it tends to be a one-server operation due to its size. On a Friday or Saturday night, you can make -Bank!- there. Big time.

I was quite pleased to see I was scheduled there last night, and for the next two Friday nights as well, honestly. This is a good thing.

So I got my money (loaded up extra heavy for the needs of the venue) and walked over. I met our predominantly daytime bar back on the way over, who proceeded to make excuses for at least 10 minutes solid about why the place was such a fustercluck. Seriously. No garnish tray prepared, half of the smaller population beers weren’t stocked. Mixers weren’t stocked. Liquor hadn’t been stocked lately and there were several gaps in our usual offerings. Just ugh. I largely tuned him out, nodding when appropriate for the sake of civility. I really wished to do some yelling, but there was no point to the activity so I held back.

Charon had her hands full in the main lounge with Abby and Morgan – practically blind leading the blind land over there. She did come by about 45 minutes later. I had things as settled as I could at that point, and had drawn up an extensive and detailed list of the things I needed one of our evening bar backs to bring me post haste. She was just as (if not moreso) appalled at the general lack of preparation, but seemed pleased that I had it well in hand. Stuff eventually (finally) got stocked, and Charon personally attended to my garnish tray.

After that – things actually took on a bit of a blur. I was -busy-. Like wall to wall busy. Like so busy I didn’t even attempt to take any breaks. I just stood back and tended bar for about 7 hours straight. Thankfully no idiots. Lots of people playing by the rules. Just the one cut-off, but he was more to do with the lounge, and I never saw him.

As a bonus, once things slowed down, Charon shut the service bar down about 45 minute early and I clocked out at a similar interval of earlyness, which almost never happens.

And yes – as noted above. I made -Bank!-

That’s how you start a weekend, folks.

Closing obsevations :

It really is amazing how fast time goes by when you’re occupied. I didn’t even register the passge of the first three hours’ worth of time.
I’m noticing a trend returning towards the shoulderless/peasant shirt look. I approve.
After 9 years, it’s still amusing that when the gaming pit calls to demand a server come over, they have yet to suss out that I almost never tell the cocktail girls. Not because I’m ignoring them, but because 99.99% of the time, they’re already either on the way over, or are planning to head there. Here’s to well-trained and competent employees.

Next up : Saturday