Stories From Behind Bars

Comedic Relief?

Chapter 1: Olive Garden

My bartending career began when I was 18 years old and worked at an Olive Garden in Nashville, Tennessee.

If you’re not familiar, this is an American restaurant chain known for serving unlimited breadsticks and Americanized Italian food. (It’s all frozen…)

I worked there for about a year as a server and bartender, I even had occasional shifts catering events.

As a bartender, I was responsible for 5 tables and the guests at the bar, including their unlimited breadsticks, salad, and soup (which I had to retrieve from the kitchen in the back of the restaurant), AND I made the drinks for the rest of the restaurant.

During busier shifts we’d have two bartenders, but even then we were running around for most of the 8–10 hour shift.

I learned a lot about alcohol before I could legally drink it.

I also learned that bartending is a lot more fun if there’s not food involved when I got another job at a dive bar, so I left the industry of “professional” bartending. It wasn’t worth $5/hour plus tips.

Chapter 2: Tin Dog Tavern

The Tin Dog was a place with more character than Jim Carrey himself.

We had a crooked pool table, flamingos and PBR paraphernalia everywhere, live music, graffiti, and a seemingly endless supply of Jameson.

There were also roaches running around at all times (like me at Olive Garden.)

At 19 years old, I was given a key to this bar and the responsibility of opening and closing the place with no supervision.

I felt like I was getting away with something I shouldn’t be allowed to do.

Tin Dog was one of those bars everyone goes to at the end of a long night.

They showed up drunk and knew they could get away with doing various drugs in the bar. (Per my boss, who was almost never there…)

I often had to kick people out at 4am so I could go home.

The owner of this place was a real character too. He made a lot of questionable business decisions (to put it lightly) and this bar was eventually shut down by the IRS.

I was also a nanny while I worked here, life is all about balance. (Ask the flamingos!)

Chapter 3: Shepherd’s Inn

Have you ever been to (or heard of) a basque restaurant?

I hadn’t until I experienced a brief career as a server/bartender in downtown Fresno, California, where I was responsible for serving drinks and traditional multi-course meals.

I was often asked,

“Why would you move here??”

How I ended up in Fresno is another story… I’ll share the link below!

I started this job in January of 2020, and we all know what happened in March 2020…

This bar was shut down and didn’t reopen until about a year later after Bar Rescue showed up to turn this historical building into a new restaurant. They also added a farmer’s market and a coffee shop.

By the time it reopened, I already had another job at an Irish Pub (after 6 months of mandated quarantine.)

Chapter 4: Grogg’s Irish Pub

By far my favorite of the few bars I’ve worked at, Grogg’s was another place with an endless supply of Jameson.

I got to know the regulars very well, and many of them talked to me like I was their therapist. The amount of oversharing would shock you.

Why do some people get so personal with bartenders?

There was one friendly older gentleman who regularly proposed to me after several beers. It became an ongoing joke, but when he drunkenly said,

“If I was ME, I’d marry YOU.”

His friends erupted with laughter. I asked him to repeat himself, trying to give him the opportunity to realize what he said. Again he slurred, “If I was me, I’d marry you.” It was hilarious.

Another memorable quote from a customer was,

“I like your skin.”

I had never seen the man who said this to me before, he had been sitting at a table outside and walked into the bar to tell me this.

Everyone sitting at the bar looked at him like he was the Zodiac killer.

I asked, “Do you mean my tattoos?” I don’t know why I bother trying to help these men sound less insane…

He said, with a dead serious face,“No. Your skin.”

Some real Hannibal Lecter shit.

I walked into the kitchen and asked my coworker to close ‘the psychopath tab’ and tell him to leave. We never saw him again, but I hope the woman he was with is okay…

I don’t remember all the ridiculous attempted pick up lines I heard, I always enjoyed the classic phone number on the receipt move. (Meaning my coworkers and I got a laugh out of it.)

I’m not trying to boast about how much attention I received; this is truly how men talk to young women who work as bartenders.

There were many times that I was glad we had a security guard who would remove people the moment they made me uncomfortable.

The karaoke nights at this bar were crowded, overstimulating, and loud, but we always made enough money to make up for it. I miss those nights.

Chapter 5: Austin, Texas

I moved to Texas in 2021 and got a job as a tour guide in Austin. (Another separate story that I’ll link below)

That lasted for about a year before I got bored of it (aka burnt out), and now I’m working as an event bartender.

I’ve circled back to the more professional side of bartending…

Now that I have years of experience, I can make $25/hour plus tips, and the companies I work for usually have clients who tip generously.

I get to work at event venues all over Austin and the surrounding area.

I have to wear a tie when I work weddings, but I’m okay with that.

The other day I wore a costume bow tie from Party City just to see if I could get away with it. I did.

Bartending is not ‘the dream,’ but it is entertaining, and it’s kept food on my table for years.

I have been able to establish a creative career while working gigs part time; I’m definitely on my way to living the dream.

I feel very fortunate that I’ve always been safe in situations that could have had very different outcomes.

There was one time that someone waited for me in the parking lot at Grogg’s and tried to follow me home (not the skin guy, thankfully.) I was lucky enough that there were people around who were looking out for me.

He was stopped before I even left the parking lot and everyone told him he wasn’t welcome there anymore. I never saw him again.

There are less potentially dangerous situations like this with my new jobs, which I’m very happy about.

Although being a single woman who lives alone is arguably dangerous, I’m pretty confident in my ability to defend myself with the weapons that are legally available to me as a resident of Texas.

But with my luck I’ll post this, jinx myself into getting murdered, and you’ll never hear from me again. (I had to say that to reverse psychology the jinx gods.)

Anyway, I hope these stories were entertaining to read and not the kind of things “you had to be there” for…

If you’ve read this far I would love to hear your stories about your career!

There is an upside down cross in the first photo in this story 
and I have 666 followers right now, what kind of synchronicity is that...?

Thank you for reading!

Follow me for more fun :)

Also follow ILLUMINATION & @Thought-Thinkers for a variety of stories from myself and fellow creatives ❤