Just started working at a bar as a short order cook with the intention to start bar tending. This job sucks because although it’s a nice place, there are no customers. This is a huge step down in terms of where I was working before and “how I got here”, also I find it somewhat demeaning. Nonetheless, it is a job and it began on Valentine’s Day this year.
Sometimes you find yourself in a place and time with no understanding of how you got there. This must have been what David Byrne was talking about. I found myself just starting to work at this bar the other night. I asked myself this lyrical question because of how much I felt like I was wasting my time. I cooked about ten different items ranging from burgers and salads to mozzarella sticks and nachos. I watched “The Ohio State” lose to Wisconsin in men’s basketball. By the end of the night with two Pabst Blue Ribbons in me and the ability to recite that evening's entire ESPN SportsCenter coverage, I was ready to go. With a fifteen dollar tip in my pocket and friends waiting outside for me, I left.
"Dance Now, Fuck Later" was the name of the warehouse party we all went to. This wasn’t necessarily a bar nor did they serve food but the time and place went together like a “be mine” card and chocolates. Upon entering the warehouse I quickly received some ink on my wrist allowing me to enter and exit at my discretion. If this was a floral arrangement sent to your sweetheart it would consist of Beck's beer, a cocktail of drugs, Men, Women, the Gay community, neon lights, expensive projectors and music. Not a bad Valentine’s gift. There was no massacre this evening. However, trying to depart a warehouse and find a cab way to close to the arrival of the sun almost resulted in mass execution.
I woke up Sunday, tired, realizing I had to go back to that shitty bar I just started working at. I showed up an hour late, frantically set up doing the little amount of work necessary to running this operation only to sit back a read the Sunday paper. At least there was pool league practice this day and the All-star basketball game was on, the West crushed the East. We closed early and not having my other job or school to report to on Monday I figured I might as well stay and have a few free Pabsts. After four beers and six games of pool I was ready to leave. I said a few words to my new manager about “how much I think this job is going to work out” and left with a twelve dollar tip in my pocket.
On my half buzzed rainy ride home, I ran into a friend’s older brother who had an extra ticket to Don Caballero at the Independent. The ticket was ten bucks I just so happen to have twelve. After presenting my ticket to the guy at the door I again received a stamp on my wrist. The Independent had the same characteristics as “Dance Now, Fuck Later” and Don Caballero was loud! However, The Independent has a full bar that I indulged in. Three seven and sevens later, my ears were ringing and I was on my way home. I was thinking that if The Independent served food it would be just as shitty as a place to work as the bar I just started at. Although you would be able to see live shows which would be a plus, you would still have to cook mundane boring bullshit food. At least you would be busy doing it.THE INDEPENDENT
Sunday was a good day not to have to be obligated to do anything. I watched one hundred and forty-eight years of presidential history on The History channel which was appropriate giving the day. After spending an entire day of watching television I decided I should go see movie. I went and saw Slumdog Millionaire, which featured a few songs I had heard a couple nights previous. The Kabuki Theater is remolded, new and confusing to find from the garage. Nonetheless we made it to the show with time to spare. The Kabuki Theater has what they call a balcony bar but really it is just a bar, I didn’t see anything balcony about it. Showed the guy my I.D. to get in and again received some ink on the wrist. I bought a couple of beers so I wouldn’t have to leave my seat, walk out of the theater, down the hall and into the “balcony bar”. After buying our drinks, we searched for the right theater and again I found myself reciting David Byrne lines thinking “this must be the place”.THE KABUKI THEATER
All in all it was good weekend brought on by a slew of going out to bars after spending my days working inside of one. This is how the service industry works and how it has always worked in my experience moving around. You spend all day or night working at some bar/restaurant/café, gain a little chump change in tips just to find yourself redistributing to people doing the same job as you. It goes full circle like the ring of ink on your wrist at a club or the mnemonic recollection of music and events.DAVID BYRNE
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Nice post, going by the title...i thought it was going to be about tattoos or something. Pretty interesting topic, would think that you'd want to avoid bars in a similar fashion to how people who work at fast food places can't stand the food at their jobs. But I guess you don't have too many alternatives if you want to go out. Also, I wasn't expecting the post to be about something so recent, do you plan on posting more about how you got to this point? One last thing, I noticed a few typos you might want to correct before you submit this in class.
ReplyDeleteI really liked this sentence: "By the end of the night with two Pabst Blue Ribbons in me and the ability to recite that evening's entire ESPN Sports Center coverage, I was ready to go." Clear and funny. I agree with Tom though that you might want to tighten up your writing before you submit it. I would use shorter sentences and only those with punch. I would like to learn more about what you like to cook, your experiences on the job, different techniques or tastes, and as a line cook, how you rate the work of others.
ReplyDeleteI love David Byrne! And in the first paragraph or so you mention that you were asking yourself that lyrical question... but then you didn't tell us what it was... oh man... don't leave me hanging. Also, you have a lot to say and I recognize your writing as stream of conciousness but I feel sometimes you get ahead of yourself and your audience has to catch up. Like when you go see a movie and you talk about Slum Dog Millionaire. Then you talk about the Kabuki. Your audience has to say, 'Oh, okay. That's where he went to see the movie' instead you could have written 'Went to go see a movie at the Kabuki.' Anyway, just needs some tightening in a few places.
ReplyDeleteAh, I went back and searched for the Byrne lyrics. Found it, but yeah, I still think you need "How did I get here" in the same paragraph as when you say you ask yourself 'the lyrical question.'
ReplyDeleteGreat post. I love the way you describe the ins and outs of life. I too get swept up and feel a similar way to style of your posts. It's almost like we all live in some dystopia that we are too busy to complain about.
ReplyDeleteBy the way, I know it might just be your style and I'm reading too much into it, but I would recommend the book Flow to you. It's not the most well written book but it does address a lot of the ins and outs of demeaning positions.
interesting blog. the first thing i noticed, as others have mentioned, is that the writing could be "tightened." besides that, i like how you took us through your mind and thoughts and i also like how you had the "ink" theme keep coming back. i look forward to reading more about your "american lifestyle."
ReplyDeleteBeyond some of the errors, which my predecessors have mentioned, I really enjoy your content. I love the almost neurotic manner in which you write about life both past and present as that is one of my favorite writing styles. My suggestion: keep doing contemporary pieces about your time in the city. It's interesting and fun! What'd you do this weekend? =P
ReplyDeleteSounds like a plan. Can't wait to read some of your BOH stories of the FOH.
ReplyDelete