Yet another glass of white wine, another shot of that delicious liquor, a sip of that single malt whiskey I like I deliver to yet another table full of now familiar faces. I have been serving them all night, and they were not the most easiest guests to satisfy with their three Michelin star needs, but, you know, the bartender becomes everyone’s comrade later during the night, a few drinks on, they are now, content. It is what makes them laugh, others unscrupulously smile over the site of yet another strolling towards the restroom, and hosts cry when they’re presented with the bill – Alcohol, your other best friend: the life of a bartender in an Italian restaurant.
Not that I was an addict, which I by the way could have easily been in an environment that relieves stress, anger or pain with and is built upon the powerful grounds of alcohol itself. Sadly, for many it is the paved way to profitable sales for the business and at last a feeling of relaxation for the individual, both have a hard time functioning without.
Bartending and serving was the perfect job for me: a lot of work; a lot of different people; a lot of room to be the perfectionist; I truly enjoyed the responsibilities and freedoms I was given to make the most out of my time at the restaurant or, actually, to basically live for the job really. When you work at a restaurant amongst the most visited places are the local pub, clubs, wine-cellars, wholesale businesses, occasionally your own bed, and of course the venue you work at. Yes, what a lovely time I had. Didn’t really mind the climbing gratuities as well.
It must have been about the third time I told my boss (who I happened to became good friends with) I was about the quit and move abroad/on, only this time I did. OK, perhaps I am a bit erratic, but I just rather do fun stuff impulsively instead of planning on them ten weeks ahead… I lost my heart to so many peoples, places and events, but who was going to help me find it back again? Well, it’s me. It is me who stuffed his life full with more or less exciting and interesting stuff, but again Stuffed, too much – stuff. A big pile of sugary candy I bit myself threw, delicious ‘til the end, but sometimes heavily damaging my wisdom tooth’s and blocking my view from what I’d truly love to do.
