10 September 2012

More Free Advice No One Should Need Before Buying a Bar

To no one in particular...

In case you ever want to own a bar, these are examples of what not to do. They shouldn't have to be said, but apparently they do.

Your customers appreciate a free beer once in a while. It's perfectly acceptable to say, "I got that" when someone orders a beer. 

It is not okay to say "I got that" to every single order for an entire evening whenever anyone orders anything. That is how you run a seven hundred dollar tab in a single night.
Then you wonder why you aren't making any money.
You have to be fucking kidding me.

First, you are paying for your own liquor twice.
You are paying the wholesale... and then giving away what is at least $3.75 EACH SHOT, that someone already ordered and was going to pay for!
No one should have to tell you how fucking retarded that is.

Second, you aren't tipping the bartender.
The person you are buying shots for certainly isn't tipping the bartender.
So your bartender is pissed off, and you can't pay your phone bill.
Sure, you're just trying to be a nice guy... but you're a jack off.

I may have already mentioned not getting all fucked up in your own bar.
I don't mean tipsy and happy.
I mean all kinds of fucked up.

It is never, ever, ever... fucking ever okay to claim that you are going to get your gun and shoot all of these mother-fuckers. 
No one shoots people in their nightgowns, and these mother-fuckers just happen to be your customers.
Jack off.

It is also not okay to get drunk, wander around your own bar and tell anyone that will listen that your husband is cheating on you every time he leaves your sight.
The fuck is wrong with you?

If you want everyone out of the bar by 3:30?
If you're pissed off because that one guy walked out with an open bottle of beer?
If you expect your bartenders to play bouncer?
Probably you should hire bigger fucking bartenders.

It is perfectly legal for there to be drinks on THE BACK BAR after 3:30am.
One would assume you understood this concept when you stagger your drunk ass back into the bar at a quarter to five in the morning and order shots for yourself and your friend.
Plus, if you are going to follow the laws by the book, maybe you should start with following the laws for fuck's sake.
All of them.

If you can't meet your overhead?
You should probably lower it.
That doesn't mean fire all your employees and claim that they all just up and quit and then hire all new employees to take their spots at the same pay.
Want a really simply way to lower your costs?
Turn the motherfucking air conditioner down a little bit, or even off for the TEN TO TWELVE HOURS that no one is in there.

A bar without women with a fucking money pit.
No guys want to spend their time in a bar without women.
No straight guys anyway.
Women will not come into a bar where they feel uncomfortable.
A sure way to alienate women?
The "helicopter".
You are the fucking owner of this establishment!
No one wants to see you pull your dick out and wave it around.

Do not ever claim that the reason you are unable to pay for entertainment is because a bartender took a whole two days of her pay out of the register.
We make $5 an hour.

Do not stand outside the door of your competition and yell to their patrons that anyone that comes to your bar will get a free shot.
Because, they are going to come over, take a shot and go back to what they were doing at the other bar.

In case you are unaware, you are further fucking yourself when you take money out of your own cash register to take your own customers down the road to the other bar to buy them shots.
You've been around for too long for people to believe you're doing it in good faith.
You are not supporting anyone, or winning customers.
You are making an ass out of yourself.

If you feel like everyone is out to get you, you should probably analyze your concept of business.
If you are unable to accept responsibility for the fact that your business is failing?
You have no business owning a bar.
Or any business, for that matter.
You can not continue to blame other people, or yell obscenities at the competition because you are losing your asses off.

09 September 2012

So you want to be a bar owner, huh?

There are a few things one has to have in order to own and operate a successful bar.

First and foremost? 
You do not have to be a man, but you have to be willing to face conflict, fire people and be assertive.
If you can't?
You have no business owning a bar.

If you can not pay your employees?
You probably shouldn't be paying out $200-400 a night for your entertainment.
If the bar is in a small town and you've been fucking your employees over consistently for the last few years?
Stop denying it and trying to make excuses.
Everyone knows.

Stop for a moment and realize that you are a business owner, and you have a certain responsibility to your employees.
There's not a whole hell of a lot of job security in bartending, but wondering from day to day whether I will be able to feed my kids takes a toll on our owner/employee relationship.
You can not continue to play games with peoples lives and not expect any repercussions. Again, with the small town thing.
People will eventually realize that you are not good people, and they certainly won't want to frequent your establishment.
Once you have lost the respect of your employees as well as your patrons? You're pretty much screwed.

Do NOT get all fucked up in your own bar.
You can't complain about an unpaid $35.00 tab when you are running a $700 tab in your own bar.
If you do get all fucked up?
Do NOT alienate your guests.
Do NOT stand in the middle of the street and yell "FUCK YOU" to the bar next door.
You look like a lunatic.

If you can't afford to buy liquor and beer and meet your payroll?
You are doing something fucking wrong.
Continuing to do it wrong, over and over, doesn't really make any fucking sense.

Maybe, just maybe, you should suck it up and admit that you are clueless.
Maybe you are in way over your head and it's no one's fault but your own.

If you want to know why business has been declining so rapidly, and you aren't seeing any profit, despite your bartender, entertainment and atmosphere changes?
The problem, quite obviously, is you.

There's a great deal more to this posting, but I'm tired and stressed and have to look for a job.

25 June 2012

There's Sloppy Drunk, Stupid Drunk, Black Out Drunk, and Then There's This Guy

It is not often that I get to experience the wonder of someone drinking themselves schizophrenic.

But when I do?
It's always memorable.

So these two guys walk into a bar... One of them is average size and build and one of them is a motherfucking giant. 
For real.
I'm 5'2", with shoes on and I came up to this dudes nipples.
Aside from the fact that he is a giant, he has those weird bugged out eyeballs.
You know, the ones that Cesare Lombroso theorized were a physical trait of criminality.
So, yeah.
 Fucking super.

Average Size Buddy orders two beers and hands one to the giant. 
The giant has yet to speak.
He takes a long drink of his beer and shifts his weight unsteadily to lean on the bar. He calls me over and asks me my name before confessing that he loves me.
I, of course, tell him that I love him too, and then leave the general area to let his sober friend take care of him.

I should have cut him off.
But he seemed in high spirits and his friend assured me that he wasn't driving anywhere and that he would take care of him. 
So, I served him one more beer and a shot, and he went to play pool.
I mostly forgot the guy was there until I heard him knock over a bar stool.
He staggers back to the bar and orders another shot.
I pretend not to hear him and he forgets that he ordered it.
He then makes his way from one end of the bar to the other, introducing himself to strangers, hugging them and shaking their hands.
His face looks angry. but he seems to be happy on the inside.
Warning sign number one.
When your expression and your emotions do not match... you're pretty much way past fucked up.

He sits down between one old skinny guy and his small friend.
I couldn't understand what he was saying at first, and neither could the old guy, all I heard was,
"What?! You're a Latin King?" Old guy looks thoroughly confused.
Drunk Giant answers, "Nome...My name is Larrrry KING."
Old guy still looks confused. "You say you're a Latin King?"
Now Drunk Giant also looks confused. "Larry? Larrrrrryyyyy King. Kiinngg."
I am laughing so hard that I have tears in my eyes when I translate Drunken Giant's statement to the old guy. Old guy still looks highly uncomfortable, so I ask the giant where his buddy is.
He looks at me and tells me quite seriously that he has no friends at all.
Then he looks at the old guy sitting to his right and proclaims him to be the best and only friend that giant has left.
I am now making no attempt to hide my laughter from the drunken giant.
Which is rude as hell, but I can't help it.

The guy staggers down to the other end of the bar and plops down next to a young couple. He grins and points at the lady and tells her, "You are sexy as Hell. But you already know that huh?" 
Then he introduces himself to the young man, who must be given credit for taking it all in stride and smiling and nodding.

I walk away, so I do not know what happened to convince Drunken Giant that he should absolutely take his shirt off, but when I return to that end of the bar, I find him bare chested and smiling at absolutely nothing. 
The older guy to the left that the giant has decided is his uncle, follows course and removes his shirt as well.
I think he is not really the guy's uncle, but who knows?
The young couple abruptly move to the other end of the bar. The lady even leaves her purse sitting on the bar....
And then a guy we will call Ben, because that's his name, walks down to the end of the bar. Ben is pretty much a giant as well, but Ben is sober. He stops and notes the now three shirtless men at the bar, because Average Size Buddy has reappeared and decided to remove his shirt as well.
I have tears rolling down my face.
I make a mental note to purchase waterproof mascara.
It's become difficult to speak through my laughter and my
 stomach is beginning to hurt.
Ben does not help.
Ben puts his arm around Giant and says, "Holy shit, it's gotten quite gay out over here."
Fuck you Ben, I'm gonna pee my pants.
And then I almost do, because after his gay statement, Ben picks up the young lady's purse, swings in over his arm and walks down to the other end where the couple are now sitting, to return the purse to the young lady.

Drunk guy refuses to put his shirt back on even after everyone else has. He is to busy hugging his newfound uncle.
He bangs his fist down on the bar suddenly and tells me he wants another beer. I nod and smile and walk away, having just poured out the beer he did have.

At some point he makes his way down to the middle of the bar and places a hand atop Kensey and  Bob's heads and introduces himself and then tells them he loves them and wants to kill them.
He then hold Kensey's hand over his chest and closes his eyes.
Okay, then.
I tell him it's probably time to leave.
He staggers over to the end of the bar and leans against the post. 
I ask him if I can help him.
He shakes his head and tells me that he just wants a drink. but since I have told him that he can't have one, there is going to be evil happening.
I ask him what kind of evil and he shakes his head, almost sadly, and tells me that it has already begun.
I glance around the bar and cannot find any sort of anti-Christ or burning pentacles or upside down crosses or anything, so I pat the guy on the back and walk away, deciding that should he start any fights, I am simply going to kick him in the nuts and call the cops.
Maybe in that order even.
I never, ever, ever call the cops.
But this guy is fucking huge.

He tells me that he loves me again and goes back to talk to his buddies some more.
Fucking super.
I won't lie.
I was relieved when Average Size Buddy finally gets him out of the bar and into his car to go home. He left his hat, but at least he remembered his shirt. 
Hopefully, he will come in to get the hat and I will get the opportunity to tell him that he was a fucking douche bag and also that he made me laugh until I cried.

24 May 2012

Actual conversation with a jackoff #2 - Gun Shop

First of all, I don't want to sound like a snotty bitch. I realize that not everyone has a working knowledge of guns... But fuck. If everything you DO know is from a rap song, video game or movie? 
Please, please, just let your gun salesman know that you don't know dick.
Otherwise, we are tempted to pistol whip you, right there in the store.

He was a white guy, with a gold tooth in the front of his mouth.
Yeah, yeah, call me a judgmental asshole, but something told me that I probably shouldn't talk to the guy...

Jack off: "Hey, this is an AK, right? (Picks up a Smith and Wesson MP15)

Krissy: "Um. Nope."

Jackoff turns gun over in his hands multiple times, apparently unable to decipher the make and model stamping on the firearm, and also unable to flip the tag over to read it...

Jackoff: "So what it is it then?"

Krissy: "It's an AR, man. Smith and Wesson MP15."

Jackoff: "Ah. So it's a .40 then?"

Krissy: "Um. Nope. It's either a .223, 5.56 or a .22... What's the stamp say? Should be on the receiver or on the tag."

Jackoff: "Well isn't a Smith and Wesson a .40 though?"

Krissy: "Huh. I'm not sure, man. You know, I don't even actually work here." 
And I return to doing computer work and leave the guy to one of the younger kids at the counter, figuring after ten years or so I have already paid my working-with-retards dues.
This is a Smith and Wesson MP15

This is an AK47, I guess I can see where the guy confused. No clue about the 40 cal though.

16 April 2012

Dear Random Jack-offs: Bartending Rants

Tending bar wasn't actually my life goal. I took the job because I was young and broke and had a baby to feed. I discovered quickly that I loved it. I love the pace of it, the interaction with people. I am one of the few fortunate people that can genuinely say that I love my job. 


I've been thinking about my job lately, and about the patrons at various bars. I have bartended shit holes and night clubs. I have run my ass off in hooker boots and also worked in my pajamas on one boss-is-desperate occasion. I love people. 


Since I have been all inspired to release my frustrations by Seth's blog, which can be read here,here are a few of my observations, and also some advise, in case you can identify with any of the situations detailed below. 
If you can?
 Stop it. 
Stop it right the fuck now.

1. Do not assume that since I am a bartender I am also a drug user. It pisses me the fuck off.  If I wasn't a high-energy, outgoing-person by nature, I would have never been a bartender in the first place.

Do not offer me drugs as a tip. I am here to feed my kids. I can not feed my kids cocaine. 

Fuck stick.

2. There is nothing wrong with being a stripper. Still, I am not a stripper. I'm a bartender. Don't ask me to see my tits. For any amount of money. Go to a strip club if you want to pay to see boobs. 
Jack off.

3. Don't tell me you know the owner and expect special treatment. Everyone knows the owner. Everyone is the owner's best fucking friend. Don't expect it to get you anywhere. I'm going to treat you like anyone else unless the owner tells me to my face that you are his best friend and can drink for free... Which never happens, by the way. A bar is a fucking business.

4. No matter how much money you spend at the bar while I am working, it is not my shit to give away. If you make me feel bad enough to buy you a round, I'm taking it out of my tip jar and therefore away from my family. 
Knock it the fuck off. 

5. You can't bullshit a bullshitter. I've heard it all. Even if you really are in a loveless marriage and your wife is a castrating bitch who won't have sex with you anymore...I will nod, smile, advise you to seek a divorce, take your tip money and still not let you get in my pants. 

Similarly, that young lady you are trying to get drunk and take home? Do not expect or assume that I will lie for you, or watch you lie to her. I am going to tell her that you are married when you get up to pee. I may or may not embellish the truth with a little white lie that you are not only married, but you have five kids, no job and herpes. Because I can respect honesty, but playing games with people pisses me right the hell off.

6. Tips do not buy loyalty. If you are an asshole at the end of the night, even if you do tip 100% on every single beer, you're still an asshole and I will still kick you out. 

7. Don't be the guys standing toe to toe talking shit to each other. It doesn't make you look like anything more than a pussy. I won't step in. I will stand behind the bar and laugh at you because if you were gonna do something, you'd have done it. 
Don't stand in the middle of the bar, yelling at each other like school girls.
You're a jack-off.
 Knock it off.

Similarly, leave the bar fights to me. If I need help, I'll yell for it. While I appreciate your concern for my safety, your involvement before that point will only intensify the situation and then you are going to go to jail or the hospital and I am going to have to clean up blood. 
I really, really hate cleaning up blood.

Also, if the guy you were talking shit to for banging your girlfriend ten years ago in high school, later gets drunk, grows balls, and sucker punches you....I can't really blame him  and I won't choose sides. 

If you are only beginning to talk shit and the other person decks you instead of talking shit back, I can't really blame him either. You shouldn't step into the shit if you aren't prepared for it. Like my friend T says, if you are going to be stupid, you better be tough.

8. While I can match you shot for shot and still be drinking while you are drooling on my bar, there is a lot of shit I have to do before I get to go home. I appreciate the offer to buy me a drink, but save it for when I am on the other side of the bar and give me the two bucks as a tip.

I know you mean well, so you are not a jack-off.

9. Money isn't everything, you fucking egotistical, self-important douchebag. If you see someone only leave me a 50 cent tip, or a dollar, or nothing at all after drinking for a while? Keep your fucking mouth shut. 
Maybe you think you are helping me out by giving the guy a little shit as he walks out.
 Maybe you think he is being an asshole or trying to insult me. 
Maybe you think he's a loser.
 I don't care.
 I probably know that the guy hasn't worked in months and that his mom sick and going downhill fast and that he has a family to take care of... and that the 50 cents on the bar is really all he can afford to leave. Maybe you think he shouldn't be in a bar if he can't afford to tip. Maybe you should not be a fucking cock holster and just keep your mouth shut about shit you know nothing about.
Making that borderline suicidal guy feel even worse just makes you- right, you guessed it- a jack-off.

10. An apology goes a hell of a long way. I know, probably better than most people, that alcohol can cause people to do and say fucked up shit. If you are out of line, or rude, or start a fight on my shift or are just generally an asshole? A simple "I'm sorry for being a dick the other night." means a lot to me. 
You are not a jack off.

People get drunk and do dumb shit. I don't judge people because of it. Shit happens. If, however, you find yourself having to apologize for every evening you spend in the bar? 
You are should consider a twelve step program.