Grossest bartender duties7/31/2023 But I have managed to cobble together a trio of potential purposes, however meagre they might be, that helped me write this piece. I have not answered this question in a satisfactory way here. Seriously, what purpose could this possibly serve? With each new attempt, I faltered-helpless, exhausted-in the face of that old but never more timely question: what purpose does this serve? I have jotted down these thoughts on service because, for a month, I have failed to write this column. For those not already in the know, politicians admit-inept action after failed half-measure-who they really serve, while violence and murder committed under the guise of “protection” by police and military services remains an essential engine of colonizer states. Anti-mask, anti-vaxxers march in service of themselves, disdainful of any responsibility to a larger community. Service industry workers, deemed essential, are forced into life-threatening situations, offered more abuse in place of more pay. It’s one of the uniting threads of the multiple local and global issues that demand our attention and action as we begin Year 2 of our global pandemic. I’m willing to bet service has been on your mind recently, too. It’s what keeps me going as, year after year, I grow more exhausted by, and helpless in the face of, the institution: its petty politics, enabling of abusers, unethical investments, and corrupt, censure-earning hiring practices. In my defence, these students, and my hokey understanding of our relationship, is what keeps me going. Though I know this sounds sappy, I conceive of teaching as serving students-not as “customers who are always right,” but as writers answering a shared calling, keen to receive the knowledge, support, and hope I can share. Taking drink orders from a half-dozen thirsty customers piled at the bar prepared me to field questions in the post-lecture crush of an exam-anxious class. I, no joke, draw on my Starbucks training daily-the “Just Say Yes” policy and the LATTE method (more below), especially. Given my work history, service influences how I approach my current job, teaching. On the flipside of this, bartending-and the various service jobs that followed-also gave me first-hand experience of a twisted contradiction: that our service-dependent society relentlessly diminishes and demeans those who undertake this essential labour. Bartending was the first job I was good at: the first to feel like a calling, and I valued the community and connection, the creativity and the joy. I think about the idea and practice of service a lot because of the extreme experiences crystallized in these interactions. (Sorry “Waste of Skin” Lady, you didn’t stand a chance.) At least according to the Starbucks customer who hurled this insult (and others) at me, when I informed her we were out of honey.Īccording to various customers at my different service jobs, to whom I have provided drinks, meals, and coffee, I am also: “a good listener,” “a lifesaver,” “a shill,” “the best bartender,” “the worst bartender,” fuel for the threat (on multiple occasions) “you wanna step outside, pal?” (I did not, in fact, ever step outside), in possession of “the first real smile” a distraught young woman had seen in weeks, and inspiration for the moniker “Fabio, the most handsomest man at Starbucks.” That regular customer, it’s worth noting, who joyously exclaimed his compliment every visit, pointing at me with both hands like a proud father, remains my all-time favourite.
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