Why I Bartend

Why I Bartend

WARNING: I’m feeling especially poetic today by the way. I’m inserting this line after finishing this post. I barely used sh*t or f*ck. Well, until now.

OK, on with the real thing…

I was talking with a host a few weeks ago and the conversation went something like this:

Host: is bartending your full-time job?

Me: No, I do consulting during the day.

Host: Then why do you bartend?

Since then, I’ve noticed people express this same curiosity in different ways.

I realized this is something I almost never tell people

At any given party or event, there’s a thirsty partygoer who wanders up to the bar with a slight look of optimistic indecision. They utter a few magic words, “I don’t know, just give me whatever.” Music to my ears.

Then what happens?

My eyes roll to the back of my head (not literally, that would be creepy), my sixth sense kicks in and I somehow figure out what kind of drink they may like. I even start to glow a little. Sometimes all that fails and I need to ask them. Either/or.

I survey my ingredients, concoct something delicious and slide it across the bar. This, of course, is a no-fail phenomenon. So is my overwhelming modesty.

I stare as they take the first sip (it just occurred me to me as I wrote this line that staring a hole in the person from across the bar is probably pretty creepy. I've been doing this since 2009… Whatever, I'm still going to do it). Then something magical happens that I’ve only ever seen when someone tastes a drink for the first time. Their face goes from curious concentration to lit up with surprise and delight.

Being able to see this unique look that takes over a person’s face, and making someone instantly happy just by putting a few things in a cup is why I love bartending. This is what I’m thankful for. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to do what I love.

Happy holidays.


David