(no subject)
I am learning quite quickly the roles my fellow bartenders will play in my life and contribute to my bartending knowledge. First there is Jeff. Jeff is a very kind man that mumbles a lot, and answers very patiently all of my repetitive questions. The other man is Sam. I believe Sam was born to be a bartender; he has the stoop, the name, and a very un-condescending presence. It has become very clear to me that Jeff will teach me the mechanics of my job: cash register, mixing drinks, and of course when to tell if someone has had too much to drink. It took me a moment to understand why Sam was telling me all of his grumbles and sorrows instead of teaching me anything I need to know. I was starting to get very frustrated and annoyed with him for not training me correctly, when it dawned on me; Alas! He was teaching me. I was suffering through all his moaning because soon I would have to be well versed in handling and receiving the emotions of others. Obviously I am romanticizing the entire thing, but if I am going to work a nine to five job I'll be needing some soap opera elements. I began listening more intently to what Sam was saying. As I am only an apprentice, I will only nod my head for now. The way I see it is I have two options; I could be the loud, boisterous, fiery Irish kinda gal, and slap him on the back while explaining that the reason for his chronic lonliness was none other then the comb-over mullet adorning his head. Or, I could be sweetly silent and sympathetic to everyone. I could act like I understand what they are going through-"Oh yes! Divorce is simply awful!"-and so on. However, I know that most likely people will say "Rum and coke" and leave me be.
I know its weird to ramble on about a part time job, but I am just so happy there. I wish I never even had the Burlington Coat Factory chapter of my life. When it comes to depressing places, Burlington is right up there with the department of motor vehicles. My boss is so great. Usually people start out washing dishes or busing, but he promoted me right to bartending. He (along with my mom) thinks I am charming and classy, and for this I love him dearly. Other than bartending I work in the kitchen making homemade pasta. On Tuesday mornings between the hours of 8 and 1, the kitchen crew adopts Italian accents. It's very hot and crowded and very Mambo Italiano. Today I learned how to make homemade ravioli, spaghetti, and cavetellis. I rolled dough for hours and hours, and then I got to put it through a machine that uses a drill and makes the cavetelli into slug like shapes. We all decided that power tools were not my thing (and everyone was so nice about it!)so they put me to sifting the spaghetti with flour. By the time I left today I was happy,covered in flour, and very rosy from all the cheek pinching.
Oh its so nice to like your job!
I know its weird to ramble on about a part time job, but I am just so happy there. I wish I never even had the Burlington Coat Factory chapter of my life. When it comes to depressing places, Burlington is right up there with the department of motor vehicles. My boss is so great. Usually people start out washing dishes or busing, but he promoted me right to bartending. He (along with my mom) thinks I am charming and classy, and for this I love him dearly. Other than bartending I work in the kitchen making homemade pasta. On Tuesday mornings between the hours of 8 and 1, the kitchen crew adopts Italian accents. It's very hot and crowded and very Mambo Italiano. Today I learned how to make homemade ravioli, spaghetti, and cavetellis. I rolled dough for hours and hours, and then I got to put it through a machine that uses a drill and makes the cavetelli into slug like shapes. We all decided that power tools were not my thing (and everyone was so nice about it!)so they put me to sifting the spaghetti with flour. By the time I left today I was happy,covered in flour, and very rosy from all the cheek pinching.
Oh its so nice to like your job!