He stops by on Wednesdays to share insights on cocktails and the life of a barman. Great bartenders are born, not made. If you walk through a crowd, you can pretty much point to people who could succeed at this job, based on how they carry themselves and how they relate to other people. The basic skills of the job can be taught, and the nuts and bolts of our job do not require an advanced degree, but a truly great bartender has the natural compulsion to anticipate the smallest details, and the training required to ensure each one is executed correctly. Bartenders have no adjudicating body that can tell us all the right and wrong way of executing our jobs. Every bar is different, just as every person is different, and it is impossible to devise a system that works for all the various bars in the world, the hordes of people who work them, and the throngs of those who drink there.
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Have you ever wondered why your bartender seems annoyed? It's because, more often than not, you or another fellow bar patron or both have done something to deserve it. We deal with more attitude and disrespect on a daily basis than you know. First, people assume we aren't on their level. But on the contrary, we bartenders are incredibly smart individuals. Some of us hold multiple degrees, or are students pursuing our passions when we aren't behind the bar. Some of us are career bartenders, passionate and highly knowledgeable of spirits or wines.
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Go to Page Please register to participate in our discussions with 2 million other members - it's free and quick! Some forums can only be seen by registered members. Inebriated Duck. I don't see the problem.
I will never forget how the EMTs that frequented the first coffee shop I ever worked in took their medium hot chocolate and coffee in large cups to avoid spillage in the ambulance; that the Second Avenue subway contractor, who hadn't touched booze in eight years, preferred lemon in his water but no straw; that Janet in East Hampton liked to finish her first glass of North Fork Chardonnay before ordering the roast chicken, all the while glued to a romance novel. There is an intimacy in reading your regulars—those folks who come in week after week or even day after day. You come to know instinctively who is having what sort of day, what liquid will salve which wound or set the mood just right. I suppose it's addicting, this knowledge that someone is coming back just for you, that you hold the power to make their day by setting down their usual before they even ask.