Alright, so last month I had my very first bartending gig. You'll have to forgive me for being so late on actually writing something about it because I have no internet and getting to the library between school and work proved to be improbable. But back to the point- yes, my very first bartending gig. 700 guests. 5 bartenders. 1 wedding. GO.
First to note- this was a genuine Indian wedding- dot Indian, not feather Indian. It was extravagant and beautiful- traditional dances, the dresses, the million guests, the food; such a sight.
We were to show up at 4:30pm to start set up- the open bar was to start at 6:30. No big deal, plenty of time right? Not when you have no idea where the alcohol is for the shindig and the person in charge is no where to be found until 5:30.
So we scramble to get the four bars set up- having to shovel ice in our little bins and take it from the ice machine to the complete opposite side of the building to where our bars were to be set up. 6:29 comes around and guests are already antsy. We bartenders found out something very quickly that day... those of India are alcoholics man.
Don't get all racial-judemental on me, this damn blog is for comedic true-story purposes. Gonna start going off on me, get the eff off my blog.
Anywhozers, So we're pouring our ounce-to-glass ratios, and the guests are not having it.
"More."
"Make it a double"
"No ice"
"Half the glass full"
and our personal favourite, "I would like Johnnie Walker with a little water." It would be your favourite too if you've ever heard an Indian say that in their accent.
So we're slinging drinks before the ceremony- it was only a one hour happy hour, the ceremony, then the release of the guests again to drink until midnight. God help us all.
I don't mean to make it sound overly atrocious because it wasn't. I mean. Well. We had fun. But I'll be damned if that ever happens again. You know what I mean. Moving on.
When the first hour was ending, the masses all came up slowly but surely, "Just one more please. Just one more."
"No. We are supposed to head you into the ballroom now. We will be open later."
Mean mugs were the general consensus. Not like we cared- this was our job. Still, smiles and all, directing people into the ballroom. A guy comes up from the side of me, "Do you have a glass you can tap on or something? We need these people to head inside."
I smiled, "No, but I'm pretty damn loud. Want me to make an announcement?"
"Oh that would be great."
SLAM SLAM SLAM! My hand on the bar. That got their attention,
"HEY! I need everyone to head into the ballroom so that the ceremony may start. Thank you for your cooperation!"
"You weren't kidding," The guy said as he stood there watching them like cattle, all filtering into the ballroom.
As we were filling up on ice, cutting more limes, and moving the bars inside to our next position, a couple cops come over to us, "I would like a rum and coke," says one of them.
"Sorry sir. Not gonna serve you on duty."
He sat there and waited.
"Really?"
"Really really." Not looking back up to respond, tending to my limes.
That's right, stupid piggy, no special treatment for you.
After getting all situated in our new areas, the announcement was made that the drinking was to commence.
It got to the point where the guests would try to overrun our bartenders, stepping behind the bar for them. Myself and a couple others had to step in with balls of steal and a little force," Sir, we will get to you. There are only 4 of us. We are paid to do this. We are trying." So on and so forth.
I went from the nice ginger bartender to the cutthroat get-your-fucking-drink-and-go bartender.
By the end of the evening, we were all pretty wiped of the demands. Then they started asking for shots, and having a limited bar, you learn quickly to blow shit outta your ass.
"We want eight shots! What can you make into shots?"
"A Hawaiian Bomb." Whatever the fuck that is....
"Ohh! Sounds good! Yeah, Hawaiian Bombs!"
I threw some vodka in a mixing tin with some cranberry and orange juices..(later to remember that when not in shot form, that is an actual drink called a Madras.) now when I say some, I mean I slight splashes. My main goal at this point was to sauce them up so they would stop coming. They kept coming....
Then, as we are putting away our bars, the crowd gets all "I'm-not-sauced-enough" attitudes on us, and start asking for more shots.
"Thirty shots. We need thirty shots," the guy yells over the music.
I look to either side of me at my coworkers. They are all scrambling to clean things, put things away, get it outta there.
"If I make y'all shots, you gotta take em and go. I have limited counter space," I say very firmly.
I shake and strain the first ten. None are budging. "I'm not kidding," I said,"take em. We wanna leave." They finally start going, but the empty shot cups instantly come back on the counter.
"Oh no you don't," I said, "You can throw those away in the trash ten feet to your right."
They looked at me as if I shit on their prized goat.
"Still not kidding." I said, trying to force at least a smirk.
Whilst in the middle of juggling 20 more shots and another drink, some dude comes at me from the side,"I would like a rum and coke."
"Sure sure, but I'm very busy and you'll have to wait a minute sir."
Another guy comes from the side of the first one,"Hey! This is the guy that bought all the alcohol!"
As if that means something to me. "Yeah, cool. Still doesn't make me go any faster," I said very dryly, still half a smirk.
"I'm only kidding," he responds, also trying to force a smile.
"I'm not." I said back.
Finally all the shots out of the way, the buyer was pleased, we were putting up when another guy comes outta no where- "We want wine for the groom and all his friends."
Kandy puts a bottle on the counter for him and continues putting things away.
"You're not going to serve it?" He asks.
"Nope. We're getting out of here. Our time is up." Someone said. We were all just about done with this shenanigans- already cutting it close to the time of closing our bars.
Finally the guy in charge comes over, tells us we did a great job, and thanks us for our patience. We put the alcohol away, found all of our equipment, got paid, and headed for the Hard Rock to mellow down.
Moral of the story children? Sauce them up when it is an open bar, flirt enough, and by the end of the night, you'll always have a decent amount of tips.
First to note- this was a genuine Indian wedding- dot Indian, not feather Indian. It was extravagant and beautiful- traditional dances, the dresses, the million guests, the food; such a sight.
We were to show up at 4:30pm to start set up- the open bar was to start at 6:30. No big deal, plenty of time right? Not when you have no idea where the alcohol is for the shindig and the person in charge is no where to be found until 5:30.
So we scramble to get the four bars set up- having to shovel ice in our little bins and take it from the ice machine to the complete opposite side of the building to where our bars were to be set up. 6:29 comes around and guests are already antsy. We bartenders found out something very quickly that day... those of India are alcoholics man.
Don't get all racial-judemental on me, this damn blog is for comedic true-story purposes. Gonna start going off on me, get the eff off my blog.
Anywhozers, So we're pouring our ounce-to-glass ratios, and the guests are not having it.
"More."
"Make it a double"
"No ice"
"Half the glass full"
and our personal favourite, "I would like Johnnie Walker with a little water." It would be your favourite too if you've ever heard an Indian say that in their accent.
So we're slinging drinks before the ceremony- it was only a one hour happy hour, the ceremony, then the release of the guests again to drink until midnight. God help us all.
I don't mean to make it sound overly atrocious because it wasn't. I mean. Well. We had fun. But I'll be damned if that ever happens again. You know what I mean. Moving on.
When the first hour was ending, the masses all came up slowly but surely, "Just one more please. Just one more."
"No. We are supposed to head you into the ballroom now. We will be open later."
Mean mugs were the general consensus. Not like we cared- this was our job. Still, smiles and all, directing people into the ballroom. A guy comes up from the side of me, "Do you have a glass you can tap on or something? We need these people to head inside."
I smiled, "No, but I'm pretty damn loud. Want me to make an announcement?"
"Oh that would be great."
SLAM SLAM SLAM! My hand on the bar. That got their attention,
"HEY! I need everyone to head into the ballroom so that the ceremony may start. Thank you for your cooperation!"
"You weren't kidding," The guy said as he stood there watching them like cattle, all filtering into the ballroom.
As we were filling up on ice, cutting more limes, and moving the bars inside to our next position, a couple cops come over to us, "I would like a rum and coke," says one of them.
"Sorry sir. Not gonna serve you on duty."
He sat there and waited.
"Really?"
"Really really." Not looking back up to respond, tending to my limes.
That's right, stupid piggy, no special treatment for you.
After getting all situated in our new areas, the announcement was made that the drinking was to commence.
It got to the point where the guests would try to overrun our bartenders, stepping behind the bar for them. Myself and a couple others had to step in with balls of steal and a little force," Sir, we will get to you. There are only 4 of us. We are paid to do this. We are trying." So on and so forth.
I went from the nice ginger bartender to the cutthroat get-your-fucking-drink-and-go bartender.
By the end of the evening, we were all pretty wiped of the demands. Then they started asking for shots, and having a limited bar, you learn quickly to blow shit outta your ass.
"We want eight shots! What can you make into shots?"
"A Hawaiian Bomb." Whatever the fuck that is....
"Ohh! Sounds good! Yeah, Hawaiian Bombs!"
I threw some vodka in a mixing tin with some cranberry and orange juices..(later to remember that when not in shot form, that is an actual drink called a Madras.) now when I say some, I mean I slight splashes. My main goal at this point was to sauce them up so they would stop coming. They kept coming....
Then, as we are putting away our bars, the crowd gets all "I'm-not-sauced-enough" attitudes on us, and start asking for more shots.
"Thirty shots. We need thirty shots," the guy yells over the music.
I look to either side of me at my coworkers. They are all scrambling to clean things, put things away, get it outta there.
"If I make y'all shots, you gotta take em and go. I have limited counter space," I say very firmly.
I shake and strain the first ten. None are budging. "I'm not kidding," I said,"take em. We wanna leave." They finally start going, but the empty shot cups instantly come back on the counter.
"Oh no you don't," I said, "You can throw those away in the trash ten feet to your right."
They looked at me as if I shit on their prized goat.
"Still not kidding." I said, trying to force at least a smirk.
Whilst in the middle of juggling 20 more shots and another drink, some dude comes at me from the side,"I would like a rum and coke."
"Sure sure, but I'm very busy and you'll have to wait a minute sir."
Another guy comes from the side of the first one,"Hey! This is the guy that bought all the alcohol!"
As if that means something to me. "Yeah, cool. Still doesn't make me go any faster," I said very dryly, still half a smirk.
"I'm only kidding," he responds, also trying to force a smile.
"I'm not." I said back.
Finally all the shots out of the way, the buyer was pleased, we were putting up when another guy comes outta no where- "We want wine for the groom and all his friends."
Kandy puts a bottle on the counter for him and continues putting things away.
"You're not going to serve it?" He asks.
"Nope. We're getting out of here. Our time is up." Someone said. We were all just about done with this shenanigans- already cutting it close to the time of closing our bars.
Finally the guy in charge comes over, tells us we did a great job, and thanks us for our patience. We put the alcohol away, found all of our equipment, got paid, and headed for the Hard Rock to mellow down.
Moral of the story children? Sauce them up when it is an open bar, flirt enough, and by the end of the night, you'll always have a decent amount of tips.
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