On Counting Your Chickens…

OK, so it looks like the PGA thing is going to suck, big-time. I left for the orientation armed with what I thought were good directions. After two hours, driving the same two highways over and over again (and getting lost in Newark) I arrived at the orientation… forty five minutes late. I got very lost, to say the least. The funny thing is that I began to panic; thinking that I had blown my spot and that I’d be turned away at the door or something. The thought of having messed up my chance at all that money was nerve rattling.

The woman giving the orientation was already in full swing when I arrived and I was sure that I missed everything of any relevance. I snuck into the back and begin to take notes on all the requirements we have to meet for this gig. It turns out that I didn’t miss much at all - in fact, it would have probably been better that I had missed it altogether.

This is a chump gig. Ten dollars an hour and we’re not supposed to accept tips. Now, I know as a writer I should be able to articulate a colorful, yet succinct phrase that will clearly express my feelings in an almost poetic fashion. I have, of course, a phrase that indeed fits all the afore-mentioned criteria:

What the fuck is that shit?

They want Tavern On The Green at McDonald’s prices. It was high comedy to see the woman doing the orientation say that they contacted bars and bartending schools in the area to research the wage for bartenders and that ten dollars an hour, without tips, was “very good.” It’s my understanding that they needed one hundred bartenders and have fallen very short – I wonder why.

Well, I’ve resolved to accept all tips offered. I’m a professional – albeit a new and unemployed professional – but a professional none-the-less and I expect to be paid as such. I will be working my ass off and I don’t think I’m out of line to want the proper, customary payment. Truth-be-told, I think that they expect us to take tips since they did say that if the customer “insists” then we are allowed to accept their tips, but that we should do so quietly.

This does go against my normal philosophy towards following my employer’s guidelines and requests, but I do have to look out for the dynamic uno. The reality is that we have a situation were the involved parties are desperate; they need bartenders and I need money – they can’t pay more, I can’t take less. It looks like they see this as well so they sort of said, without saying, that they’ll look the other way… well, that’s how I’ll interpret it, anyway.

When I got home I had an interesting conversation with the little lady. She suggested my finding a day job. Bartending is my mission right now and it I did go for a day job, I wouldn’t be able to interview for bartender positions during the day. I can’t blame her, I mean; I am unemployed and pretty much out of cash. While I see her point, I can’t help but think about how things like this always happen. It’s the same old story; it’s as old as mankind itself. When you try to do something that doesn’t fit everyone else’s plan, they try to dissuade you from it. Columbus didn’t discover America by listening to the conventional wisdom of the time. I know it’s not nearly the same scale, but this is something I want to do and have wanted to do for a long time. I wouldn’t call it a dream or anything, but I’ve always thought was a good idea and I need to see if it is for myself.

I just can’t ignore the fact that every former bartender I know speaks of bartending fondly and with a longing in their tone as if to say “I wish I was still at it.” Actually, some of they really do say that they wish they were still at it. Ya can’t argue with that, can you?