Bartenders should get hazard pay. We are exposed to hundreds of people and the millions of nasty germs that accompany them every night we work…we clean glassware laced with saliva, we treat the bar rag as if it’s a magical sanitizing tool, we shake everybody’s hand, handle money…the list goes on and on. Bartenders make their living in an infectious environment. I am not one of those pathetic hypochondria ridden employees that call out whining at the slightest scratch at the back of the their throat, but I do get genuinely sick from time to time. It comes with the job. So at the beginning of my work week…one of my gracious customers left me a tip in the form of a multiple-day flu virus and I was forced to call in sick the remainder of the week. Thanks asshole. Really…you’re such a fucking alcoholic you had to go out drinking when you were still infected? Parasitic prick. Anyway, I am finally feeling better and will be getting out of the cave and back behind the bar tomorrow. While I was nursing on my bottle of NyQuil, faithfully praying to the porcelain god, and coughing up enough lung cheese to stuff a jar of cocktail olives…Tales From A Bar turned one year old. The diapers are coming off! It’s hard to believe a year has passed already. It seems like yesterday I was typing “how to start a blog” into Google. This has been an enjoyable learning experience for me and I am looking forward to sharing this following years war stories. Thanks for reading and stay tuned!
- No related posts found