The Bartender Sweet Spot On Burnout

Just some observations from the other side of the mahogany.

I got drilled out of a consulting-type job around mid-August, and I was kinda done with the notion of white-collar work in many respects after that happened. I’d been chasing the white-collar drain for about 22 years, often in meaningless roles with bellowing morons above me (or people who just ignored me and probably thought my name was “Todd”), so I decided to try and bartend. I’ve bartended at three-four places since, although now I’m in this weird arc where I’m kinda doing “training” at multiple places, and the “training” takes a while because the licensed trainers up and leave, which inhibits my ability to start tip-earning shifts. Anyway. Away we go, right?

In the time I’ve been bartending, I’ve figured out a little Goldilocks-type thing at different places. You basically have three tiers of existence on a bar shift:

1. Utterly slammed: Just making drinks and filling food orders nonstop. No time to clean anything, no time to chat with guests. Just hitting deliverables.
2. Mid-tier: Slammed at parts, down at parts. Can talk in pockets. Can clean and get ready for the end of the shift.
3. Booooooring: No One is ordering drinks or food.