The Fun Part Of Guest Bartending: The Stories

Last night I bartended for the first time! Woo! Here are some of my fun stories from the night. 

Background: My bartending class hosts guest bartending at an 18+ bar in Huntington, NY. A bunch of students come and get a chance to serve actual alcohol to actual people. It’s exciting stuff.

When I first arrived, a few students were already sitting down and we all introduced ourselves. We continued this lovely ice breaker until the last people showed up. Each and every time I correctly introduced myself with my birth name, as people do. However, when the last person went around the group, arm outstretched learning everyone’s name, my brain short circuited. He got to me, reached out to shake my hand and I did the same. With complete confidence, I grabbed his hand and introduced myself as “April”, who was actually the girl sitting next to me. No, idiot, that’s not your name. Your name is Toby. It took me a second to process what just happened and then I started crying from laughter and sheer embarrassment. Who does that? Me. I do that.

Fun fact: I cannot figure out how to rip the paper off a straw to properly place it in a drink. Don’t ask me to. You’re just going to have to do it yourself.

At one point a guy and his friend came over to sit with a few of us girl students. One friend was drunk and had already met us several times, but the new guy was cute. He introduced himself and them immediately proceeded to ask our age. The girl next to me was 21, another 18, and then he asked me. Twenty-three, I said proudly! And then his face did that whole “wtf” look. He was probably thinking “How can you look so young but be so old”, which is what his expression reflected. Cool. I asked him his age. 19. Then I noticed the ‘X’ on his wrist indicating his underage-ness. I understand I have a young face. I’m just waiting to graduate high school…ya know, since it’s been almost 7 years. My age didn’t bother his friend though. That kid said he’d fucked a MILF. Congrats, bro! You ruined a marriage!

I learned to twerk, however, unsuccessfully. I still don’t understand how one moves only their butt without shaking their entire body.

Was informed that when I dance my hands are too stiff. Now I’m going to pretend they’re jellyfish from now on. Bring on the men.

The DJ refused to play the macarena. He clearly underestimated how popular that song was back in the 90s and had little faith in its popularity today.

Instead of practicing staying awake until the bar closed I left early because my old grandma self couldn’t stay up past 2:30am. I’m glad most bars close at 2am.

Once I get a job I’ll let you know where I’m bartending since I know you’re all dying to meet me!


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