April 12th, 2018

It was with some reluctance that I entered the Lounge this evening.

Not just because the parking lot looked like things were dreadfully slow, and not just because I knew I had a trainee bartender in my space, meaning I’d make less overall money. The main thing was that it was Granny Nobs’ last evening with us, and she’s going to be very much missed.

All the same, I’d rather be there on her last night than not, so in we went.  She hailed me as I was walking past the Beverage office on my way to the floor.  She made sure I’d taken the last certification test I needed for my annual review, and then had me sign off on the thing, showing me I’d scored a perfect… average! on everything.

😑

Better than nothing, I suppose, and I can’t just lay it all on her, honesetly. This place seriously has a weird set of strict metrics to adhere to for this, this, and this, and I probably -don’t- exceed them.  I’m part-time, I like being part-time, and if I absolutely kicked brutal ass on their forms, they might actually want me to -shudder- supervise the place or something. (Which I’d flatly refuse). I mean, I didn’t -suck- at anything, and honestly – at this point, I’m probably very close to capping out on the hourly pay they’re willing to give a barkeep in the first place, so it probably doesn’t matter a whole hell of a lot, really.  I’ll get my extra quarter an hour I’m sure, and on the story goes.  Nice of her to have it done before she takes off, though.

Anyway, I go get my customary quantity of money for a Thursday night and install myself in the bar, and start doing business. It’s about as slow as the parking lot looked, though there is a table of four or five native guys , enjoying the $2 draft beer special.  I mentally assume that we’ll be cutting them all off at some point. (Spoiler alert : 100% correct on this detail) This is not, by the by, because they’re native Americans. It’s because I know these dudes after serving them for the past 9 years, and I know they’re prone to it.

Our senior cocktail girl, Mary, took tlie liberty of getting a card for everyone to sign for Granny Nobs and brought in some snacks as a kind of low-key send-off. I signed the card, grabbed some Doritos onto a paper towel to munch on throughout the evening, and got some coffee.

Our new trainee bartender, whom I’ll refer to as Morgan, arrived a little before the top of the hour and I started showing her around. She’s been in the department before so it was really more about minutae like the new POS system we have, how to properly poor a tap beer without getting a cup full of foam, and so forth. Before long she had her own cash drawer set up and was handling guests.  I watched her at it, offering pointers, as Charon (our supervisor for the evening) kept an eye on us both.

Before dinner break, we got some news regarding Jerry the Older’s condition. Two broken vertabrae, not just one, but apparently not horrible breaks. He’s apparently been in talks with upper management about whether or not he’s going to want to return.  We should know the story in a week or so, really. Depends on how he feels I suppose. The legal ramfications of his accident have yet to come home to roost, and they’re gonna be doozies.

I went to dinner and came back to find the table of natives had grown.  Ugh. Yep.  I see cut-offs in the future.   The evening largely passes slowly for a while. I go take my second break, after which Morgan gets sent home earliy, which is great because now I don’t have to split the tips for the rest of the evening.

Granny Nobs eventually shows up from clearing her pile of paperwork and says her goodbyes to everyone.  Hugs, shaken hands, kind words, and even a few selfies are taken.

The table full of native beer drinkers finally manages to get themselves cut off wholesale, and I enjoy the rest of a relatively peaceful evening. Given that I was sharing the first half of the shift’s tips, I actually did pretty well. No complaints.

 

Closing Observations :

  • Maybe it’s a body language thing, but sometimes you can just totally tell when someone is going to be in the land of the cut-offs, well in advance.
  • I learned that apparently Charon is going to be taking ovver Granny Nobs’ role. That’s about as positive as I could hope for, really. Still have to train her on my scheduling needs, but she likes me all right, so I should be able to diplomatically request things and have even money on getting them.

 

Next up : Friday Night (at the service bar)

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