Tending Bar

Over the years people have told me that I’m good at a few things:

  • Appearing world-worn – my default response to ‘How are you?’ is a toss-up between ‘despondent’ and ‘a bit weary’
  • Performing menial tasks – the best performance review I’ve ever gotten was a rave about my carrot-peeling and dishpiggery skills
  • Lending an ear – B.J. Novak’s “The Girl Who Gave Great Advice” could have been written about me. I’m excellent at nodding solemnly, judging people internally and not letting this flicker across my face, and saying totally redundant things like ‘It is what it is’ in a sage voice. When dealing with other peoples’ emotional crises, LC lines are my go to…







…So I always thought I’d be a great bartender. My friend and I manned the bar last night at our college Liquid Lounge – which is actually a normal bar night and not a shag-carpeted swinger’s do – and had a great time. Like me, her alcohol knowledge was pretty much limited to goon/not goon, so we made a point of sampling all the wares – rums, gins and whiskeys – and especially the top-shelf stuff so we could make obnoxious recommendations to people (“You sure you want that Jim Beam? I’d personally go with the Wild Turkey 13 year old Distiller’s Reserve…”)

Being at the bar was also an excellent social filter. I’ve been trying to avoid this Italian guy (no, it’s not relevant that he’s Italian, though I can’t say the language barrier doesn’t lead to some weird messages, like “Hei Elodie! Probably tomorrow I’ll go to a concert. It should be really funny! And of course after the concert we can go on together. Do you wanna enjoy me?”)

…so it was helpful that I could fabricate a lot of Gin Depletion and Almost Out of Limes emergencies!

One thought on “Tending Bar

  1. Pingback: Poetic justice: a coat round-up | Elodie does Oxford

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