seven years bartending
an ode to anthony bourdain
ive been going through a phase lately, one that im sure a lot of people have done before me, and one that i hope will continue long after im gone, and that is an obsession w anthony bourdain.
recently ive found myself binging all episodes of his “parts unknown” series. an interesting collection of media where he travels to all corners of the globe, and while exploring the various culinary aspects the culture has to offer, also delves into political and social issues. often delivered in a serious tone.
i admire him, as many others do, for his outlook on life. he didnt speak in riddles, he expressed what was real and true to himself, and he was never scared to show this side of him. he was very outwardly spoken about the complexities of working in kitchens and especially the people he worked w. he was known for his openness to everyone and everything. one of his most beloved quotes of mine being “eat at a local restaurant tonight. get the cream sauce. have a cold pint at 4 o’clock in a mostly empty bar. go somewhere youve never been. listen to someone you think you may have nothing in common with you. order the steak rare. eat an oyster. have a negroni. have two. be open to a world where you may not understand or agree with the person next to you. but have a drink with them anyways. eat slowly. tip tour server. check in on your friends. check in on yourself. enjoy the ride”.
ive unknowingly found solace in doing a lot of these things my entire life. the act of going to an empty bar by yourself and enjoying your own company is something i’ve found many others to mock throughout my life. what is someone so afraid of that they cant exist in their own inebriated mind for more than a few hours. to sit back and write a poem or enjoy watching the bartenders shake cocktails for a while, is a priceless moment that i will always seek out, no need to indulge in conversation and distractions, just enjoying being in a moment. ive been working hard on trying to have a drink w people who i dont agree w. ive grown too fond of existing in my own echo chamber of thoughts and feelings, and hate myself for seeing disgust in every person that views the world in a slightly different light to me.
but back to the point at hand. i was just listening to an episode of ‘parts unknown’ where bourdain talks to Masa Takayama, who owns a famous three michelin-starred Japanese and Sushi restaurant in New York. they start off in Japan and head back to the restaurant that Takayama began his career in of, Ginza Sushi Ko. One of the most well renowned sushi restaurants in the world. he talks about his time there, and that for the first two years he existed purely as a dishwasher and toilet cleaner. that was his entire existence. i couldnt imagine doing that for two whole years. i briefly had a stint as a cleaner at my old school during covid. i was only there for a few months, and hated every second. contemplating suicide was a daily routine as i was cleaning up after disgusting children every day. a school that was 150 years old and had life-sized nun statues littered around the school.
so i couldnt even imagine doing this for a full two years. before you even got a chance at making the rice. then, and only then, if youre lucky, you’ll get a chance at preparing the fish for service, AND THEN if you’re even MORE lucky you might be taught how to serve nigiri in front of customers. all of this was a process over 7 years. and, in my own way, i feel like ive down my own 7 year journey, and ill tell you about my favourite parts
over the years i’ve compiled a list of my least favourite shifts. for all different reasons, some guy flashing his dick to me in the bathroom, getting threatened by a group of a dozen british lads that they’d kill me because i cut them off. all fun memories now. the worst that comes to mind occured while i was living in england. I was working at a quaint little boozer, The York Tap. a place of good quality real ale and half frozen pork and stilton pies. The gimmick for this place was that we were literally ON the platform of the train station. which meant when York had their big racing days, we’d be filled to the brim all day, (i’m not sure which dickhead thought that circular bar was a good idea, but at times, it felt like i was some feeble pray being hunted by a group of bloodthirsty jaguars, ready to tear my jugular out if i so told them that i had to change a keg) but the start and end of the day were the worst, w old british geezers, way too excited at having a pint at 10am. then when they circle round at the end of a long day of racing, were so fuck eyed that i could’ve pissed in their glass and they wouldn’t have know any different. if i remember correctly, we took a hundred THOUSAND pounds for the day. which was fckn ridiculous. but what was more ridiculous is that we only had one shitter for the gents, which eventually did clog. and against my better judgment, put my hand up to unclog it. without the help of a plunger, i double layered my arms w bin bags, and shoved my hands all the way down the toilet to break up clumps of shit. not my finest moment, but definitely character
me and my old best mate :))
i had a brief stint as a business manager at an undisclosed brewery at an undisclosed airport. i was so excited to start this job. i liked the beer, the salary was good, and id always wanted to work at the airport. i was taking over from the last business manager who was moving on to a different venue, and so i was left in the company of a man who’s name rhymes w cunt, so that’s why i will call him. cunt seemed like a nice guy to start off w, a bit weird, even going as far as snitching on one of the coworkers by telling me she was attracted to me? it was awkward and uncomfortable but i kept my mouth shut. my main grime w people like cunt is that he takes his anger and insecurity out on others because he’s unhappy w himself and the state of the world. we disagreed on many things. he thought being awful to customers was okay, and i didn’t. a girl who worked there for some time, but hadn’t recently due to an injury, had texted me saying she was ready to come back. i believe in giving everyone a fair chance, cause wtf else am i going to do? tell them to get fucked and their worth is what i think them of them? that was cunts mentality. he wanted her to stay away, and i believed she was good for it. “if she’s shit, it’s on you” was his words. and she turned out to be one of the best workers we had there. lovely and sweet w a passion for helping others, a million times better than cunt ever was. i found out later that he would routinely talk shit about me to other venues, what a loser. i like to think i got one back on him though. one of my old friends from the airport had messaged me, asking what i thought of this person that had slid into her dms. low and behold, it was cunt. let’s just say, he was not getting a reply back after that.
less about the actual work and more of the surroundings, but one day i was minding my own business w a coworker on a slow spring day. (he’s a bit older than me, the type of guy who’s only loves in life is his grill, dog, girlfriend, and PC. he likes to take things slow, battered down from the hard years he’s worked in hospitality, i respect him a lot) as the early afternoon approached, a customer came up to us and said “umm idk how to put this, but there’s a dead body in the water”, i’ve never seen him jump up so quickly. he shot to the side of the bar where the river was, and quickly warned me to look only at my own risk. curiosity got to the better of me, and i glanced over. he was face down, bobbing in the water, neat haircut and wearing a white shirt still tucked into his pants. it was shocking, not knowing what happened to him. was their foul play involved, or had he decided to end his life? it was horrifying. once we got all the customers out of the venue and the cops down to get him out of the water, i sat w myself for a bit, thought about my own life and his. i won’t be forgetting that day anytime soon
me and my good mate when work flooded :((
i recently had my final shift at my previous job. something id been looking forward to for a while. not because i hated the job or the work or the people, in fact, i really loved it. it was just that my previous job where i was employed, i had been the assistant manager, and in leaving that job and just going back to being a regular casual, felt like a step back for me. now don’t get me wrong, there is nothing ever wrong w working casual job at any age, it’s important for character development and keeping the basis of our society afloat. but now, back to my last shift. mentally, i had already clocked out. i was already 3 beers deep and kicking back w a dart. halfway through my shift, i was probably nearing my 7th pint, an amount that was leaving me slightly inebriated and blurring the lines of what was appropriate to say to customers. then out of nowhere, and undisclosed worker of mine came in to my section of the bar and offered to spilt a bag of coke w me. i politely declined and continued on w service. an hour later, i get the same coworker coming and offering me a bump, i again politely refused because i didn’t put in, but they were insistent. this continued on for the rest of the night until i was convinced i had robbed this person of the $350 they spent on the half rate coke that we get in australia. nevertheless, a good time was had, and it was a wonderful way to end off my working time there
we had fun :)
ive got dozens more stories to tell, ones i’m sure i will tell on here soon. if i had a final message to summarise this whole post, it would be to not give up on something you’re not good at right away. in today’s day and age, it’s easy to get hooked on not only something different, but follow the trend on the next best thing, and to give up quickly if you don’t succeed at it right away. take the time to hone the craft and truly appreciate what it takes to learn a skill, or just do whatever, it’s up to you i guess