Right Working Romantic Related Learning Friendly Healthy Legal Inspirational Unfiltered

Do I Look Like The Kind Of Bartender Who Cares?

, , , , | Right | June 20, 2022

The golf club where I work is hosting a dinner dance for a local businessman, with lots of very well-off guests.

A man comes to the bar and orders a fairly large round of drinks. His total comes to about £100.

I tell him the price, and his demeanour flips from cordial to furious.

Guest: “£100?! Do I look like I can afford to buy £100 worth of drinks, huh, fella?”

I give him a once-over, taking in his midwinter tan, designer suit, expensive watch, and gold jewellery, not to mention his wallet that is on the bar in front of him with half a dozen £50 notes visible.

Me: “Er, yeah. You do.”

He locks eyes with me for about five seconds, then his angry expression splits into an enormous grin, and he bursts out laughing.

Guest: “Well played, fella, well played!”

He hands me a credit card and pays for his drinks.

Guest: “I’m sorry for messing with you at first. That was mean of me. Here, this is for you guys behind the bar; you’re doing great!”

He then handed me three of those aforementioned £50 notes, gave me the double finger guns, and headed off with his drinks.

Is He Also Secretly An Old Man?

, , , , , , , | Learning | April 5, 2022

The golf club I work at is hosting a Year Eleven prom — a ball for school leavers aged fifteen to sixteen. Since it’s pretty common for people to try and sneak some alcohol into these events, we have security on the door performing searches and confiscating any contraband.

Partway through the event, I head into the manager’s office where the confiscated booze has been stashed. There are a handful of hip flasks, a couple of small bottles of vodka… and an entire 750-ml bottle of Bourbon.

I ask one of the bouncers how that particular item came to be confiscated, and he tells me that one of the guests simply had it tucked up the sleeve of his jacket and tried to claim that he had a prosthetic arm!

Nepotism Rarely Works Out Favorably For Anyone

, , , , , | Working | December 22, 2021

Many moons ago, I was a wide-eyed, young innocent employed for the very first time at the tender age of seventeen in a fairly snooty country club. Even to my eyes, some of the behaviours were obviously wrong, but the staff generally pulled together and just got on with things as best they could.

That is, until [Manager #1] started. [Manager #1] was employed to look after the restaurant and events by her good friend, [General Manager]. Until this point, [Manager #2] had been looking after all of that, plus the cafe and bar. He was a great guy who kept things ticking over. I never did learn why [General Manager] felt that [Manager #1] was needed, but it was quickly obvious even to me that she didn’t have a clue what she was doing.

This came to a head for me during a large Christmas party a company booked for their employees in our event room. We got the event set up quickly and were allocated sections, but I ended up pulling extra tables because [Manager #1] miscounted. 

When the guests arrived and were seated, I zoomed around my tables taking drinks orders until I had this conversation with one of my guests.

Guest: “Hi! Thanks for taking the orders, but can I check when the free wine will be arriving?”

Me: *Laughs* “Good one! If you like I can get you a wine list, though?”

The guest’s smile started slipping a bit.

Guest: “Umm, no, I’m serious. The package we booked should have included two bottles of red and two bottles of white per table.”

Me: *Very confused* “Oh, I’m sorry for the mixup. Let me just check on that for you and I’ll be right back.”

I consulted with the other waiters who were now receiving similar comments from their tables. It took us a little while to find [Manager #1].

Manager #1: “Yes! Of course, they were meant to get wine. Why hasn’t this been done?”

All Of Us: “Well, because this is literally the first we are hearing of this.”

Manager #1: “Bah, just get it done! Quickly, before they start to complain.”

Remember how I had extra tables and that drinks orders had already been served? In all of the confusion, I missed distributing the free bottles to one of my tables because they already had wine on their table and I mistakenly thought that a colleague had helped out and given them their free bottles.

Eventually, one of them complained to my manager who summoned me to explain myself.

Manager #1: “[My Name], explain to me why I had a complaint from one of your tables that you haven’t given them their drinks.”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m not sure how that happened.”

Manager #1: “I’ll tell you how it happened: incompetence.”

I was a bit taken aback for a moment.

Me: “You know what? I agree, incompetence was definitely the problem here. I’ll go serve them now.”

I’m pretty sure that she and I had very different ideas of whose incompetence caused the problem. I left the job a month or two later, and from what I heard, [General Manager] had to let her friend [Manager #1] go not too long after because of her many screw-ups.

She Butter Not Come Back

, , , , , | Right | April 29, 2021

I’m a busboy at a country club. We get an order for lobster with no butter. The lobster is made with no butter either on it or on the side. Not two minutes later, it comes back, clearly not even touched, with the complaint that there is clearly butter on the lobster. So, the chef fires a new one and it gets sent out.

The second lobster comes back again because “there was clearly butter on it” (there wasn’t) and one of the managers was apparently putting out the “fire” with the customer.

I have a delivery near that table a few minutes later and this little old lady is yelling at the top of her lungs and has drawn the attention of almost every member near her table to them.

Eventually, the manager is able to calm her down but has to comp the entire table, all because she was given exactly what she ordered.

To make it worse, she ends up ordering a well-done steak as her comp meal. It is only ready to go out as everyone else at her table is way past done eating, so they all sit there drinking more wine as she takes another thirty minutes to eat her six-ounce steak.

This Story Comes With A Kicker

, , , , | Right | March 30, 2021

I work as a computer technician, usually in people’s businesses. I go out to an exclusive country club in my city to replace the touchscreen on the point-of-sale system in the bar. While I’m replacing the screen, I notice that the power cable on the new screen isn’t the same as it is on the old screen; I will need to get inside the cabinet under the POS in order to run the new power cable to the new screen.

The bartender is present at this time, opening a bottle of wine. A few minutes later, I hear the bartender leave the bar area.

Still torso deep in the cabinet, I have just started running the new cable when I hear someone walk behind the bar.

Customer: “Boy!”

I’m not sure who is shouting or what they are shouting about so I stop moving to better listen. 

Customer: *Yelling* “Hey, boy!”

This is followed by someone kicking me forcefully in the side of my leg. I quickly slide out of the counter to see a large grey-headed man towering above me. I’m expecting some sort of emergency.

Me: “What?” 

Customer: “Don’t ‘what’ me! Scotch neat and a martini. Dirty. Gin. Up.”

I am still on the floor, on my back, covered in dust, and I imagine I have the most confused look on my face.

Me: “Umm… The bartender should be back in a few minutes. Did you just kick me?”

Customer: *Stomps his foot* “We’ve been waiting for fifteen minutes! Make the d*** drinks!” 

That’s a lie; the bartender has been gone under five minutes. I stand up, brushing off some dust, and ask again:

Me: “Did you kick me?”

Even though I am clearly taller than him, he puffs out his chest in an unsuccessful attempt to appear threatening.

Customer: “I saw you pouring wine earlier!”

Me: “That was the bartender.”

Customer: “Just get the d*** drinks!”

I point to the emblem on my shirt:

Me: “I work for [Computer Service Company]. The bartender will be—”

Customer: *Loudly talking over me* “SCOTCH NEAT. DIRTY MARTINI. UP.”

Just then, the staff door swings open violently and in rushes the kitchen manager.

Manager: “Sir, you can’t be back here. Stop harassing the computer guy!”

The man abruptly turned to face the kitchen manager for a few seconds and then looked back at me, face flushed, with the most bewildered look. He mumbled something quietly about bad service and shuffled back to his table. His friends at the table appeared to be supremely embarrassed.

The kitchen manager decided to cut him off from the bar for the day.

I wish I had been wiser at the time, but sadly, I didn’t call the police. My boss heavily discouraged calls to the police involving this hoity-toity place, as business from this place meant more to him than our safety and comfort. Instead, I just quickly finished up my work and got out of there.