last days in the country and my foray into bartending

so for my last 2 days in the country with the kids, I kinda just hung around with the exception of my trip to La Baule which is a 9km beach (my numbers have ranged from 7-9km because the french can't seem to make up their minds about how long it actually is.) This story isn't all that exceptional, I took the train to the beach in the morning, walked to the beach, laid down in the sand, napped for a while, swam in the ocean, realized I was getting burnt, bought sunscreen and lunch, laid on the beach again, took the train home. Just a normal day at the beach.

I took the train home on the last day and the kids just looked at me wide-eyed. A asked me where I was going and then gave me about 100 thousand kisses so I had a nice coat of slobber on my face for the train ride home; I took the first class train back to Paris (so swanky).

I hung around Paris for a few days and on one of these occasions, I went to WOS with Morgan. We were just sitting there enjoying our evening when the owner asks what I am doing the next night. With no other plans and Morgan having to babysit, I said 'nothing, why?' and it was explained to me that the bar was having a big party for the french running of the bulls called bayonne and that they needed an extra hand because most of the other bartenders were busy.

Before he could finish his sentence I had screamed yes in his face because I was probably more excited than I should have been. Okay said the owner, you have to wear all white and red because that's what people wear to the bayonne, told me to be there at 7pm and I quickly agreed and started planning my outfit.

Here are the things I did not anticipate:
1. the fact that I have literally zero clue how to make a single cocktail, mixed drink or even pour a beer correctly from the taps
2. the fact that by standing behind the bar, people were going to give me orders, some of those people only spoke french, and I had not learned the french words for 'shot' 'pint vs demi' and various other typical bar orders
3. no one taught me how to open the register, so i just was holding wads of money and desperately begging the other bartenders to open the drawer for me
4. no one told me that if the person doesn't hand you money right away, you make a ticket and stick it in the jar with their name on it (a lot of people drank for free because of me)

with none of that in mind, I show up at WOS at 6, because I wasn't doing anything else. I was put in charge of cutting up fruit to make sangria, and then slicing a bunch of cheese for cheese and ham plates. The owner told me it was going to be my job to serve sangria when people asked, the ham and cheese plates when people asked, to clear glasses that were empty and to walk around and make sure people were having fun. (Guess he pegged me as a social butterfly)

Easy enough! the night starts slow and I am just pouring Sangria and chatting with the few people I know who are cycling through the bar and chatting with people I don't know, trying to get them to order sangria. Sales skills. This works well until we hit road block 1. Someone orders Sangria and a Long Island. Now my experiences with Long Islands are atypical. I believe I would be frowned upon in Europe if I made a Kilroy's style Long Island and charged people 2 euro. meh. So I have to catch the eye of the only other bartender there at the time, and ask her to make one.

This girl bartender does not like me. She is from another midwest state, also blonde, and I think she thinks I am stepping on her toes by working at WOS for the night. She introduces me to people as "the other blonde american who works here now" this does not strike me well. I pour sangria and move on until the person hands me a full on handful of cash which leads me to roadblock 3. How do I open the register? I have to ask the bartender who dislikes me. Instead of showing me which would have saved both of us time and frustration in the long run, she just hits a bunch of buttons, the drawer opens and I put the money in. I make the change and turn to hand it to the guy who paid me in the first place. He tells me I can keep it.

I just made my first 2 euro as a bartender. Officially professional. All of the sudden there were a million people in the bar and it was getting intensely crowded. Two other bartenders show up and I am instantly in the way, so I start collecting empty glasses and walking around making sure that people are still having a good time. This seems to go well. People like to mess with new bartenders. Two british rugby players offered me a job cleaning their apartment for an hour a week for 20 euros. I considered this offer for quite some time.

I spend the rest of my evening avoiding being behind the bar because I am in the way, useless at making drinks, incapable of accepting payment and altogether annoying the seasoned bartenders. The owner is unaware of this, or just doesn't care. He is happy. He asks me to work the next day.

The next day goes way better because there is not a theme party and I worked during the day. Working during the day meant this: got early breakfast with people who hang out at WOS frequently, lost my iphone in the cab that I took back to WOS (this story coming next) while working: Owner poured the drinks, I carried them to whoever ordered them, took money, handed it to owner and then checked on people every so often. In between the scattered customers (not too many on a sunday afternoon) we played 'petanque' which is usually played outdoors by people who are 100, but we had an indoor set.

It's a lot like marbles only the balls are like 10 times as big. You throw a little orange ball and then you through bigger balls and try to land them as close to the orange ball as possible and/or knock people away from the orange ball. It was kinda fun, really difficult to play in a super skinny bar, but altogether a pretty good time.

This day bartending went way better, this is the day I learned about making a ticket and sticking it in the jar with the persons name, I learned how to open the register (then promptly forgot) and one of the bartenders even showed me how to close down the bar - hot water on the taps, how to run the dishwasher and all that jazz- she then split all the tips with me that night. I made 15 whole euro. I decide I like this girl bartender. She is from Poland and awesome.

I go home, decide that bartending in that capacity is probably not going to be my strong suit, but I would love to try again with slightly more training. I sleep all of Monday.