Smack-a-Ho Saturday

Seriously, Mexico almost got herself smacked by the rest of us at varying points throughout the night.  I'm not a violent person, I'm not a rude person, and I won't call you on your transgressions until they get to the point where I can't just shrug them off.  ...This trick pushed me to the point where I couldn't contain myself and pulled the, "oh no she DIDN'T!" face in front of customers and had to turn and walk away.

Reasons Why A Ho Almost Got Smacked:

1.  You have been working at this jont for the longest time (4 weeks).  Congratulations!  That means: you have been working at this jont for four weeks.  It doesn't mean you can give orders.  It doesn't mean the rest of us want (or need) to hear your "helpful hints".  And it certainly doesn't mean you're an expert bartender.  So keep your running commentary to yourself!!

EXAMPLE:  There was an incident where the New New Girl (just started today because Drunkie got fired) had a guy who gave her a $10 bill and said he gave her a $20.  Boss Man ended up giving the man his $10 back because he "didn't want to argue over $10."  At the end of the night, when Boss Man informed her that her drawer was short by $10, she reminded him of this incident.  It was an A-and-B conversation... so why did Mexico chime in with:

"To avoid that you should just put the money on top of the register before you ring it in."

OMFG!  NO ONE ASKED YOU!

As New New Girl put it this morning when we were riding the train home, "you know how they say most cops were once those kids who everybody bullied and then they grew up and got guns and now they think they run everything?  Yeah, well, that was probably her.  She was probably the nerdy kid who got picked on, and now Boss Man gave her some little bit of props 'cause she's been here the longest and she took it and ran with it."

2.  Never, ever, ever, is it acceptable to jump across someone while they're engaged in conversation.  And it's beyond rude to do it twice.  Next time I'm able to predict that shit before you do it, I'm sticking my hand out in the vicinity of your throat and choppin yo' ass "on accident".

I was smiling, laughing, talking to a customer and this trick LEAPS across me and leans on the bar to talk to someone else.  And then she lost her balance... so she did it AGAIN!  Was she raised by wolves or something?  Where they do that at?

Ho... you bout to get smacked.

3.  It's understood that we're all hustlers behind the bar, however, you do not step in on someone else's hustle.  It's obvious this trick doesn't have an understanding of hood rules: everyone has their own hustle... and you don't interfere with what isn't yours.

Trick, if I'm talking to a customer, don't lean in and ask him if he wants something else to drink.  I GOT IT.

And it's not just like I'm being passive and she's being aggressive and I need to get on her level; no.  She has done it to everyone at the bar.  New New Girl was standing all the way at the far end of the bar and Mexico literally runs from the other side, butts in, and asks the guy what he wants.

She did that to me the other day, and tried that mess again today, but I remembered what the guy had been drinking and had it waiting for him before he sat down.  And then I asked what his friend wanted. +$12 to me, trick.  (We get paid off of sales commission too... that's why she's so pressed.).  She managed to do that a couple of times to New New Girl, who turned to me and said, "man, I told Boss Man about her.  She's a toe-stepper; yeah, well I bite bitches."

4.  Don't send me off on errands so my back is turned to the bar and you can scoop new customers coming in, or refill more glasses.

I know she doesn't have short-term memory loss, so why would she ask me if I had change three times in the span of 30 minutes to an hour?  The last time she asked me, I finally had to say:

"No!  This is the third time you've asked me that.  Go ask Boss Man to open the change box."

Ho, you 'bout to get smacked.  It was no surprise that she made more than $250 in sales and got her 10% commission while the rest of us were stuck 5%.  I've got no problem with my co-workers making their money; as long as they do it respectfully.

Reasons Why My Boss Deserves to Get Smacked:

1.  Don't ask me why I'm "constantly leaning against the counter".  If everyone appears to be entertained: their cups are full, they're engaged in conversation, or they're watching the dancing going on... I'm not about to jump in and interrupt the merry-making.  It's funny how he's always watching me when I have downtime, but never when I'm talking, making a drink, or taking an order.

2.  Don't shine a flashlight in my eye to get my attention.  This aint COPS.

3.  Don't tell me I made a mistake when I didn't... 'cause I will correct you; boss or not.  I, ever so responsibly, informed him that I accidentally input six cents instead of six dollars into the register.  This man's response was, "again?"  

I replied, "no.  I only did it once."  

He goes: "no.  You did it twice; I corrected it.  I'll show you the tape."

So, later, when he shows me the tape, it shows that I input 6 cents ONCE and he corrected for it with 6 dollars ONCE.

"Yeah, like I said," I nodded.

Special People Make the World Go 'Round

I gotta give a shout out to the characters who made the night worth getting out of bed for:

New New Girl, who is certifiably crazy.  She's loud, dances non-stop, and says the most outrageous things.

Are You High, Sir?  The customer who I really think was high.  He was moving in slow motion, nothing seemed to faze him, and he had this one dance move: arms raised in the "Victory!" position, index fingers pointed, moving as few muscles as possible while bobbing along with the music (in slow motion, still).  He kept everyone laughing and imitating him.

The A Train Companions, these two guys who sat and talked with New Girl and I until we got off the train.  They were cute and nice.  And!  Dude said he liked Raheem, Wale and Tabi Bonney! =)

Tip Jar: Married white men tip really well and they're easily impressed.  You don't have to work hard for them at all: you can even just stand there and smile... they've never seen anything quite like you before.

...Fa'realz? Friday

Let me begin by saying that working the crazy hours I work will leave you without a sense of date or time.  And judging by how empty the bar was last night, I don't think anyone else knew it was Friday either.  We even got a new bartender (I like her, she's cool) to bring the total up to five for the night.  Turns out that was unnecessary.  Fa'realz?

...A Wig?  Fa'realz?

Yeah.  I had to go out and buy a lace front wig because I absolutely refuse to put heat on my hair everyday.  Do you know what kind of damage that does?  My hair is my most prized possession (okay, not really... but it's close), it's the essence of my being; I can't let that kind of harm come to it.  I like the wig; it takes all the effort out of doing my hair and protects it from damage, all in one.  I might just wear it everywhere.  ...Sike.  

Fa'Realz, Yo... Everything Is Not About the Hustle!

Bartenders are hustlers; they're entrepreneurial.  However, your customers should not get a sense of this, because then they won't come back.  I understand trying to get your money, but people don't like to feel worked over and taken advantage of.  I understand trying to sell $250 worth of liquor so you can get your 10% commission, but respect your other bartenders' hustle while you do it.  The bartender who's been there the longest (4 weeks), let's call her Mexico, because that's where her family's from, seems to think she works the bar alone.  When one bartender is talking to a customer, you do not go up to the customer and ask them if they want something else to drink.  (Especially when it's the new bartender and she hasn't had that many sales yet).  I mean, look... if you lose a sale today, you'll get one tomorrow.  My boss at the strip club had to tell the cocktail waitresses: respect each other's hustle-- you might have to work the dead section tonight, but the next night will make up for it.  Don't be ruled by the hustle.

You Have NO Authority Here... Fa'Realz.

Mexico was being generally annoying otherwise, too, though.  If you're standing "in her way" whatever she deems that to be, she'll shoo you over with her hands (something I HATE).  And she spent the whole night giving directions to the rest of us for no reason.  New Girl and I were cracking up about it this morning as we rode the train home.  (Yes!  I have someone to ride the train with!).  Some people just like to give directions, down to the way you put the tip money in the tip jar.  It really pisses me off (I have a problem with anyone putting me in a position of inferiority, actually), and I'll get curt or go silent with anyone who does it.  So... shut up, please?  Tha-anks!

Fa'Reals?  You Gonna Play Good Cop/Bad Cop Like That?

A bunch of off-duty cops came in today.  And being cops, you would think they would (a) know the rules, and (b) obey them.  So sir, you should know better than to ask to, "take all the girls out to breakfast."  Nope.  Not gonna happen.

And then this guy tried to play Good Cop/Bad Cop with me.  His friend was a little mouthy, but he was funny (he gave his name as Eddie Spaghetti, lol), so it was okay.  Dude who tried to play Good Cop turned to me and was like, "I think my friend wants more than...  I think he wants more than... just... look out for yourself, okay?"  And then he kissed my hand.

I think you want "more than".  I'm not stupid; don't do me.

I don't know why he tried to pull that, considering he had just told me earlier, "you're a pretty girl, but I can see you've got a tough mind; keep that mentality wherever you go."  It was in the context of talking about traveling abroad.  I really, really want to study abroad in Italy and France, and he told me that Milan was The GHETTO and Paris sucked.  (My father has told me before that Paris is the pits, as well).  

"You know, you think because you're from New York that you know what's what; that you're hard, that you've seen everything... but let me tell you: you aint seen nothin.  Man, Europe is bad, man.  And Milan?  Milan is the worst ghetto ever.  Paris... it sucks... I been everywhere: Italy... Rome, Florence, Venice, Milan... been to Russia, Morocco, south of France...  There aint nowhere like America."  

Duly noted.  I still want to take that two week drawing course in France though.

Fa'Realz?  You Gon' Go Off Like That?  I Aint the One.

Like I said: I have a problem with anyone putting me in a position of inferiority.  And definitely don't curse at me.  My father wouldn't talk to me that way (okay... well... depends on what I did to make him angry).  I feel like the owner of the bar was just upset because it was dead on a Friday and he was losing out on money, but don't take that shit out on us.  And he had a problem with one of the bartenders who let a customer touch her.  So... why did he yell at all of us about it?  That right there is why he can't keep a consistent staff.  That right there is why I'm working for 3 weeks: long enough to pay my rent and expenses and that's it.

And then, he got attitudinal with the New Girl for being nice to a customer.  The man had spent two rounds of $70 with her on drinks; he was drunk.  She offered him a glass of water from the tap.

Boss Man came over to her and said, "what did you just do?"

"Well, he was drunk, so I gave him a glass of water."

"No.  He gets a bottle of water: $6.  Do me a favor and don't give away anything for free in here."

...The man has already given you $140.  Are you really that pressed over $6 that you'll charge a man who's drunk off his ass for it instead of just looking out for him?  Fa'realz?  Not cool.

End of the Night Foolishness:

So, the New Girl and I are riding the shuttle bus to the train and a drunk old man get on and starts dancing on the bus, knocking the poles with his cane.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to sit down so I can move the bus," the bus driver said.

"Okay," Drunk Old Man nods and then goes up front to pay with his Metro Card.

"No, you don't have to pay, just sit down, please."

"No!  I have to pay!"

The bus driver sighs and allows the man to pay.  (He really didn't have to, it was a shuttle bus).  It's in your best interest not to argue with drunk people though.

"Alright, now, can you sit down?"

"Okay, I love you."  He sits down.  "I love you."

(I think it's funny how drunk people seem to think saying "I love you" makes all of your foolishness better.).

Tales from the Hunt

I spent the entirety of last night on Craigslist, responding to postings.

I got one hit back from this Latin club within an hour of sending them my shizzle.  They wanted an interview today.

Between my "of indeterminate and curiously mixed heritage" looks and the general pretty-hot-and-tempting nature of my bartending photos, I think that's what got me such a rapid hit back... because it definitely couldn't have been my skimp resume.

I woke this morning (later than I meant to) and did more Craigslist stuff, and then I got ready to skiddadle and go to my interview.  An hour away.

I would prefer to work somewhere closer to my apartment or my school, but beggars can't be choosy.  And although I'm currently living off of money from my trust fund, I don't want to keep doing that.  I'd like it to remain there as a cushion.  So!  Off I went into the pouring rain to hop on a train in hope of the gain... of a job.  (I never was that good at rhyming.).  

Smart Nikki remembered to bring her resume and photo selection as well as my mixology certificate (not that it actually means much).

Stupid Nikki forgot to bring the number I was supposed to call to be let into the building.  Luckily, Stupid Nikki has great friends whom I can trust to go into my email account for me and find vital information.  Lucky Nikki.

So, I go into the club and there's like 6 young Latina women practicing for a beauty pageant or something.  The guy directing them across the floor is SO flamboyant.  Cross-culturally, the dynamic of the small-town beauty pageant/fashion show/hair show is the same.  Lots of young women with stars and dollar signs in their eyes and some guy in some combination of silk, leather and spandex with a slight lisp showing them how to strut in heels.  I love universality.

I'm met by the bar manager, who gives me a rapid interview.

As she scanned over my resume, her eyebrows rose, "Oh, you went to bartending school, good good.  ...So how much experience you have?"

I thought about lying on my resume, but you can't lie about years of behind-the-bar experience when you're OBVIOUSLY only 21.  And I wasn't about to say 6 months; hell no!  "Well, I've been bartending unofficially since I was seventeen," I laughed easily.

"Well, I'll put down 5 years then," she smiled back.

Score!

She took a look at my photo selection.  "Wow.  Beautiful.  Very nice.  Yeah, I remember these pictures."

Yep.  I look pretty killa-killa in a bikini, yo!

Score!  I took a memorable photo!

We talked a little more about the club and what my requirements would be.  I made sure to tell her I speak Spanish.  (I wasn't lying.  I speak enough Spanish to get by.  We just have to keep it to the present or past tense.  And speak mas despacio and use simple words and phrases, por favor.).  

It's all the way uptown (or I'll be in the Bronx location), but l don't mind that right now.  I just want to make money.  Plus!  If I get hired by this club I'll get to practice my Spanish (and probably learn some creative phrases, lol) and learn some new dances.  I can sacrifice an hour of time for cultural enlightenment.  If they want to train me, I'll find out by the end of the week.

In the meantime:

Going for another interview in Queens tomorrow.  Randomly stopping by two Brooklyn bars as well.  Still all over Craigslist.

hustleBABYhustle.