It was my first day as a bartender, and in my mind I had arrived. There is a joke, “What’s the difference between God and a bartender? God doesn’t think he’s a bartender.”
But life had other plans. The woman seemed middle aged to me at the time. But when you are 22 years old, anyone over 30 seems middle aged. Whatever her age, she was my very first bar customer. And nobody forgets their first.
“Don’t you know what you are doing?” she asked loudly. Which is not something that you want to hear when you don’t really know what you are doing.
Five minutes in, and I was sure I was going to get fired. She went on for what seemed like an eternity. If one thinks Shakespeare writes long soliloquies, he had nothing on this woman.
Bars are funny places. Sometimes it seems like a spotlight is being shone on you. It happens most frequently from the customer side. If the bartender has to ask a follow-up question about a drink, some people will freak out, as if put on the spot. “How dare you?” they will say, or think, or act. Which is why James Bond’s martini order stays so relevant. Bond clearly knows exactly what he wants. Shaken not stirred leaves absolutely no room for debate. Or for questions.
“Amateur hour,” she exclaimed loudly.
There I was, getting scolded harshly. That white hot spotlight was now on me, and I didn’t like it one bit.
The cocktail waitress looked on with bemused detachment. Some people in this world just love to watch other people fail. But not everybody does. And it was then that my co-bartender came along and rescued me.
“That’s it,” he said to her. “I warned you before.” Then he asked her to leave.
I didn’t know we could do that.
Johnny was that bartender’s name, and I learned an awful lot from him. I not only learned what to do, but I also learned what not to do. And in the greater scheme of things, learning what not to do has proved far more valuable.
Eventually Johnny left that bar and went on to another. And eventually so did I. But we crossed paths again and again. It turns out that the restaurant business is a much smaller community than one realizes. But it is pretty competitive. Who’s the best? Who makes the best drinks? All subjective. But in the restaurant world subjectivity often passes for truth. The best restaurants are not always the most successful, and the most successful aren’t always the best. But even that is subjective.
In between all of that, there are people like Johnny. I don’t think there has ever been a magazine/newspaper article written about him, but anyone who has worked with him has appreciated him. I know I did. We were a great team at three different hot spots. All of which, ironically, were written about extensively.
I’ve also learned that the people who get the most press aren’t always the ones who deserve it. But in our business, the loudest often gets the most attention. And that is unfortunate.
Johnny quietly retired from the restaurant business last week. Forty years at many of the best restaurants and bars the North Bay has ever seen. There was no fanfare, no media send-off, no farewell tour. But for those of us who worked side by side with him, we will never forget him.
And every time that I step in to help a struggling newcomer, I will know that I am doing Johnny proud. Because if there is one thing the restaurant business teaches you, it’s that everyone needs a helping hand once in a while. Those of us in front of the bar, as well as those of us behind it.
Jeff Burkhart hosts ‘The Barfly Podcast.’ More at jeffburkhart.net.
