Posts Tagged ‘door guy’

Review Evolution

May 17, 2016

There is a four letter website out there that stands for everything that is wrong with social media. This website allows any asshole with a cell phone to spew hate filled reviews attacking people in the service industry because they are upset that there is no Amber Ale on tap. They seem to have no control over what slanderous rhetoric its users post. Anyone who has ever waited or bussed a table, tended bar, been a floor or general manager or worked the door as a security guard will tell you that 90% of what you read on this website is bullshit usually made up by a user under the influence of alcohol. I understand that speech is free in this country but personally attacking an employee of an establishment you patronize, while drunk and recently ejected, does not equate to freedom of speech in my mind.

I have so many negative reviews about me that it is impossible to count. I have been called both racist and sexist on this site. I have been accused of being a pathetic little man drunk with the power of running a restaurant on this site. I have been referred to as a shameless prick who inexcusably backs his staff on this site. One time some schmuck actually posted a picture of a dog taking a shit and had the nerve to compare me to the pile of dung on this site.

Mind you these nasty things have been written about me because I was just trying to do my job. When was the last time something that happened at your job got blasted out on the internet with the express purpose of making you look like a jackass? Think hard. For me it’s much easier to recall because it happens every several months. If you want to pull me aside and say these awful things to my face that’s fine. It most likely won’t end well but one way or another it will end. Don’t be a coward and run to your laptop or tablet and blatantly make shit up that threatens my livelihood. Once it goes up on this site it is there for the public to read and now not just one person thinks I am all these awful things but the entire world is encouraged to make the same rash judgement.

So, you say to me, “It’s just a silly little website. Nobody cares that much about what is written there. Readers are smart enough to decipher the legitimate reviews versus the bullshit ones.”  First of all, the people who use this site are not that smart. Trust me I deal with them on a daily basis. If they were in a spelling bee versus a stack of bricks I’m taking the bricks, big time. Second of all people do care. I have seen people cry after reading a nasty review that was written about them. I’ve met people in this industry who have lost their job because they got too many bad reviews most of which were bullshit. If people didn’t care what was written on this shitbag site then certain restaurants wouldn’t discount customers who write five star reviews about them.

I have been in or around the restaurant business for 20 plus years and have been in the craft beer industry the last ten and what I have found is that people in this industry care about what they do, a lot. This is a career not some summer job motherfucker and every day I go to work I try to be better than I was the day before. When things don’t go well I lose sleep or drink to excess usually both. When my teammates have a bad day I feel it, because I care about them too. We work long hours on our feet trying extremely hard to provide our patrons with stellar product and service.

To do all that and then have some punk ass permanently stoned college hipster or some Quaalude popping soccer mom who have never waited a table in their life tell the internet that I suck at my job is something I am no longer able to just sit here and take. In fact, a very good friend of mine and I are going to open a restaurant for all these expert reviewers of a business they have never been employed in and it’s going to be called “Go Fuck Yourself” (patent pending). That way when they don’t like how things go down in our house they can reference the sign on the front door.

Service industry people unite. They want to write about us then let’s write about them. There is a website called GULPU.com™ coming to you soon. It’s our site to talk about how awful they are. For now, get stress off your chest with us at https://www.facebook.com/GULPU/

That way the next time some redneck with dip spit dribbling down his chin tries to fight you because you wouldn’t serve his pregnant girlfriend alcohol the real story will be heard too. Oh yeah, I almost forgot “Fuck Yelp”.

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The Bad Bartender Chronicles V

May 31, 2013

I recently had one of the worst experiences at a bar that I’ve had over my entire drinking career which has been lengthy and highly decorated. It was my first time in San Francisco and as a lover of craft beer everyone I spoke to before embarking on my trip up north told me there was absolutely one bar I had to go to if I was going to be in the city. So, I did and shall forever regret stepping foot there. As a respectful member of the bar community coupled with my blinding hatred for a certain four letter website I am legally not allowed to name, the bar at which I had this terrible experience shall remain nameless.

Another reason the bar shall remain nameless is because it wasn’t the bar that ruined my time there it was the pathetic excuse for a bartender who was clearly twelve years past being past her prime. Even a historically cool bar can be ruined by terrible service and based on the regulars’ acceptance of this common street walker’s behavior I figured her shitty treatment of customers wasn’t an exception but the norm.

It was late when we arrived with a nice buzz from a day long hair of the dog session beating off a circus-sized hangover. My first impression of this allegedly awesome craft beer bar was that it reeked like vomit. Not freshly puked vomit but years of people puking all over the place like the scent of vomit was stained into every surface of the bar.

We found four seats at the bar and waited to order. The bartender was at the other end of the bar leaning on the bar top with her back to us as she talked to other customers. The guys she was talking too had full beers so they clearly were not performing a business transaction. I looked around and saw four other patrons in addition to my three buddies and me anxiously awaiting a frosty beverage. After five minutes of watching the bartender shoot the shit she looked down the bar and made eye contact with me briefly before returning to her conversation for another five minutes.

Finally she slowly sauntered down the bar and helped the four other patrons who needed refills. Five minutes after that she greeted my buddies and I with a disinterested look as she tossed four soggy coasters at us. She wore a small tank top and leaned on the bar to show off her tits which were probably the only two good features this venomous skankbag possessed both physically and mentally.

Her hair was put back in pigtails and her face wore the weathered look of years spent turning tricks behind a puke stained bar. Her shorts were short enough that she needed two different hairdos and my first thought was how proud her father must be that his forty year old daughter still dressed like a whore.

She half listened to our order while twirling one of her pig tails around her finger. She poured our beers and asked us where we were from. When we told her San Diego she laughed at us and walked away. With frosty pints in front of us we thought nothing of it and all tipped the venomous skankbag a couple of bucks as we are all seasoned bar folk.

Less than halfway through our beers two of my buddies and I stepped out front for a quick smoke. We returned five minutes later and upon sitting down saw that our almost full beers were no longer where we left them. Now I know your first instinct would be to ask your non-smoker friend what the hell happened, but that is another blog for another day and honestly our freshly bought beers being taken was probably the last thing on his mind since at any other bar in the world that wouldn’t be a concern.

It took us ten minutes to get the venomous skankbag back down to our end of the bar because she was at a table sitting on some guys lap as she sipped out of their pitcher. When she finally returned to us we asked her what had happened to our beers.

“What beers?” she responded with a dip of her shoulder to expose more of her breasts and a flirtatious smile.

We all laughed uncomfortably thinking she was fucking with us and that our beers would reappear shortly. When they didn’t we asked her again what had happened to our beers.

“What beers?” she responded in a much more serious tone.

“The fucking beers we just bought from you and tipped you for!” said one of my buddies.

“I don’t know what beers you are talking about,” she said.

“Seriously we just ordered those beers ten minutes ago,” I said.

“Listen, do you really want to debate me on this or do you want to tell me what the fuck you want to order?” she yelled at me.

At that point I walked out with plans never to return because at this point I had been purposely ignored, stolen from and laughed at. After smoking a cigarette with no sign of my buddies, I reentered the bar only to find out that one of them had paid for another round of beers from the venomous skankbag and also tipped her fat in the process. I know you are thinking why the hell any sane person would be foolish enough to give more money to such a thieving bitch but once again that is another blog for another day.

Sipping the frosty pint in front of me calmed me for the moment. This calm lasted briefly as I noticed that amongst the dirty glassware the venomous skankbag was too lazy to wash were my buddies and my three near full beers. When we pointed this fact out to the venomous skankbag she ignored us at first.

“Those aren’t your fucking beers so just stop fucking crying like a bunch of pussies and drink what the fuck is in front of you,” she said after further questioning.

I have never finished a pint faster in my life. I was done with being disrespected and out the door in less than two minutes. Someone that bad at their job should be not just be fired but marched in front of a firing squad. At the very least she should be forced to seek an occupation more suited to her skill set like returning to the corner she was hatched at to commonly walk the street.  

You’re 86ed!

June 17, 2012

It takes a special kind of dirt bag to get 86ed from a bar. It is the highest level of bar discipline there is. First you get cut off, then you get kicked out, but to be 86ed means you went below and beyond the worst of human behavior. Getting 86ed requires more than simply falling out of a stool or vomiting in a plant. You have to reach an extreme level of douchebaggery to receive a lifetime ban. With 81 unassisted 86ing’s on my stat sheet I would like to share my expertise on the subject so that you can avoid ever being banned from a bar for life.

First of all never swing first. What that means is if you don’t instigate a fight a fight usually won’t find you. I have found that people who get into bar fights go out looking for them. There are guys out there who believe that fighting is a way to solve simple bar disagreements. They suck down countless vodka red bulls and then have two options; have a heart attack or start a fight. I prefer they choose the first option but they never seem to.

Fights are bad for business and are a serious buzzkill. People get hurt; girls start screaming and most of the time the cops show up. Pain, female screaming and the police aren’t exactly my idea of a party. If they are yours you won’t last long at my bar. Starting a fight is an automatic 86ing and if you happen to hit my door guy he is likely to break your fucking legs so that you have to crawl to whatever bar you plan on starting shit at next.

In some cases where fights are involved the instigator isn’t the only one to be 86ed. If you get in the way or ignore our attempts at breaking up a fight you will be 86ed. If you escalate the fight to a higher level of violence, like say cracking a pool cue over a guy’s head, not only will you be 86ed, you will also be billed for a new pool cue.

In order to be welcomed back to a bar you must respect that bar and its policies. The most important policy a bar must uphold is to not sell alcohol to minors. If a bar or one of its employees get caught doing so they can be fined, lose their liquor license or can even be arrested.  That’s why if you come into my bar with a minor and try to sneak them drinks you will be 86ed.

I work with an elite staff that take their jobs very seriously and are damn good at them. No matter how sneaky you think you are being we will always catch you. We are smart enough to know that those two shots you claimed are “both for me bro” aren’t, and as soon as you walk away you are on immediate watch. At that point it is only a matter of time before we bounce both you and the sixteen year-old girl you passed that second shot off to. If you want to get a minor wasted do it at home like a normal parent or older brother or statutory rapist.

In addition to respecting bar policies it is important to treat the bar staff with that same level of respect. We are here to help you have a good time so don’t fuck with us. Bar employees have to put up with a lot of shit but crossing certain lines will absolutely get you 86ed. The second you throw a shot glass or a handful of fruit at me you will be 86ed. If you decide to talk shit about me or one of my fellow bar employees or even the bar at which I work you will be 86ed. If you threaten to break a bar stool over my head because I cut you off you will be 86ed.

Sexually harassing bar employees is the easiest way to get yourself banned from a bar for life. Whether it’s a hungry pack of Human Female Hyenas molesting a defenseless bar back or a group of frat boys hounding an innocent hostess any unwanted and aggressive come on that crosses the line will get you 86ed. That means no touching us, ever. This rule mainly applies to female employees. The second your hand grabs the ass or breast of a female employee you will be lucky to leave with that limb still attached to your body.

There doesn’t necessarily need to be a specific reason for 86ing someone. Over time the accumulation of minor infractions can add up to getting a repeat offender of bar policy 86ed for no reason at all. If you are repeatedly rude, disrespectful, don’t tip, and are hated by regulars and employees then you will be banned from every decent bar you ever frequent. It eventually gets to the point where it is so evident what a dickbag a certain individual is that I may 86 them simply for saying hello.

People who get 86ed always seem to try to come back. Not just once, but multiple times. No matter how many times you try to explain to someone they are 86ed they never seem to grasp that it is for life. There is no getting un-86ed once the final verdict has been handed down. All appeals will fall on deaf ears. Making excuses or apologizing or begging is not going to undo what ever asinine act got you 86ed in the first place. My advice to anyone I’ve ever 86ed is to save your time and your breath and find some other bar to act like an asshole at.

The Whistle Won’t Work

April 14, 2012

There is a special place in hell for anyone disrespectful enough to whistle at a bartender in an attempt to get their attention. In fact I believe that in this unique corner of hell those culprits who have been caught whistling rudely in their past are forced to watch repeat episodes of American Idol on full blast with hourly intervals of random Stained songs that get pumped through a musical catheter of sorts injecting depressing, repetitive, shitty music into their bodies via their private parts.

When I walk my dog I usually let him off the leash so that he may shit and piss freely. If he runs off or is hidden behind a bush I will on occasion whistle in an attempt to get him to come back to me. It works great on a dog because they are simple creatures who can’t necessarily comprehend words, so loud noises are one of the few ways to communicate with them.

Bartenders are not dogs. Therefore just because your Bud Light bottle is empty doesn’t give you the right to treat them like one. Believe me “bro” you waiting an extra twenty seconds to get a fresh bottle of domestic piss won’t kill you but whistling at a bartender might. We are a prideful bunch who put up with a lot of shit on a nightly basis and if you whistle at the wrong grumpy English bartender on a day that his favorite football team has lost to a girl’s high school soccer team it may prove to be the last thing you do on this earth.

The sound of a whistling drunk can make your skin crawl and when it is directed at you the urge to kill can be overwhelming. You must fight this urge with every bone in your body. Murder is the easy way out for both of you. Anyone ignorant enough to whistle at a bartender must be scolded and punished in a loud enough manner to embarrass them in front of everyone else sitting at the bar. It is important to let them know that you are not a dog. You then must explain to them that if they ever whistle at a bartender again they will be 86ed from drinking alcohol anywhere including in their own basement. Then, based on their response you decide whether or not you have the large man standing on the door break both their legs.

At the very least, whistling at the bartender is a great way to go thirsty for the rest of the evening. Not only will you be skipped, but you will be ignored in such a blatant manner that no matter how dumb you are you will get the fact that you fucked up. If you whistle at me I will help everyone else in the entire bar even if I have to start offering table service before I will even consider serving you again. I will tell my barback to go on break so I can run glassware in lieu of pouring you anything. I will enter every credit card slip into my computer as slowly as possible so that you may crave your drink for just a little longer. And then once I have no viable way to possibly ignore you anymore I will smoke a cigarette.

I bet you are wondering if you can’t call a bartender bro or sugar nipples or big dog or baby or snap your fingers or scream or whistle, how are you ever going to get a drink around here? The answer to that is only found when one truly understands that using these words or whistling is actually not going to get you served faster. It will give you just the opposite. Bartenders have a great memory and hold a grudge all the way to their grave. Once you are labeled a whistler you are a whistler for life. In fact other bartenders who you haven’t ever whistled at will be able to recognize you for what you are and the drinks will continually be coming out slower and slower until one day when they finally stop.

You the general drunken public should be offended as well. The last thing you want as you’re peacefully sipping a frosty pint is for some bag of dick to stroll up to the bar and whistle as loud as he can. I recommend the next time this happens you stop what you are doing and stare at the culprit in disgust. Feel free to point and I highly encourage you alert others that there has been a serious bar infraction. Let’s make it clear to this disrespectful douchebag and those like him that we as a people will not stand for that sort of behavior any longer .

The Bad Bartender Chronicles II

March 24, 2012

A major problem with the bar industry today is that a lot of male bar owners/managers make hiring decisions based off approval by their dick instead of their brain. As a result, instead of ending up with a quality bartender they hire some super hot bimbo with boobs bigger than their heads who can barely pour an ice water. Don’t get me wrong, there are a lot of really good female bartenders, some of which are really hot. That’s not the point. This isn’t a beauty contest and the bottom line is if I wanted to stare at a hot chick who can’t keep my drink filled with booze because she is too busy flirting with her nineteen year old barback I would go to a strip club. When I am out drinking, I want my drinks strong and fast and it doesn’t matter if a gremlin is serving me as long as my glass stays full.

Usually, the idea behind hiring a hot female bartender who cares more about her makeup than the customers is based on the fact that most of the people frequenting a bar on a regular basis are men. It is then assumed that when drinking men must have a half dressed hottie serving them alcohol. In that sense men are seen as animals who constantly crave the sight of the opposite sex and when this craving is mixed with booze it gets worse. If that is the case then we as men are very simple creatures and are at best one step above a coyote with our snarling teeth and saliva covered chins.

There is some truth to the idea that all most men need to be satisfied with a bar is to have a glorified stripper with pouring privileges serving drinks slowly. I would estimate that seventy percent of men really are that simple. I know a lot of guys who frequent bars based strictly on what the bar staff looks like. What’s funny is that what all of these guys have in common is their belief that one day they will take that sexy bartender home with them.

That notion is foolish and quite frankly laughable. Hot female bartenders make a living off saps who swear they are one step away from getting laid. News flash jack ass all that flirting you and her just shared was monetarily motivated on her part and ten seconds after you walked away she started flirting with someone else.

This false confidence grows when men are fed booze and by the end of the night a good female bartender will have a bar full of men truly believing that they have a shot. Even after the door guy has cleared these drunken lechers out from the bar as they head home they do so with the confidence that next time they truly will get lucky with their favorite bartender. Although this sounds pretty pathetic it happens at bars all over the world and evidently as much as we as a species adapt and improve ourselves, drunken men believing hot girls half their age are down to bone is a mentality even evolution can’t overcome.

In our modern world which favors gender equality there are few jobs females are at a disadvantage of obtaining other than being president. Men on the other hand find hardships when trying to enter many a job field, especially so in the bar business. Despite the fact that this double standard has been set due in large to ogling men who care more about their spank bank than good service it is still unfair.

It is a fact that finding a job as a male bartender is exponentially more difficult than it is for a woman. I am the proof. When I moved out to California I had four years of bar tending experience along with a year of bar management experience and I couldn’t even get a job at Chili’s. One bar manager looked me dead in the eye and said that he didn’t think he’d ever seen a male apply for a position. I felt the urge to smack him across the face for even sliding me an application and then watching me fill it out before sharing this information with me. Luckily after some lean times a wise man took a chance on my overqualified ass as a busboy and the rest is bar history.

Once men get a leg in behind the bar they have to work twice as hard as a woman to earn a decent wage. I have seen a good looking girl get a hundred dollar tip from a creepy and greasy looking businessman even though it took her ten minutes to acknowledge him and another twenty to figure out how to open his Bud Light. Trust me; no one is ever going to tip me a hundred bucks just to stand there with a confused look on my face no matter how pretty my beard is that day.

I urge you the drunken masses to demand competence over big tits. Don’t stand for shitty service just because some bar owner thinks his office is the casting couch of a cheap porn website. Let’s take our bars back and move forward into a world where bartenders aren’t judged on their jugs but their ability. Let’s forgo fantasies of nymphomaniac female bartenders who will fuck you just for tipping well and move into a reality where every bartender around knows that there is no cranberry juice in a vodka tonic.


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