“Of all vices, drinking is the most incompatible with greatness.” -Walter Scott
The bar industry can take a major toll on your body and mental health. Besides long hours, stress, and incessant conflict, you can pick up patterns and addictions that maximize attrition against a normal, healthy lifestyle.During the better parts of my career I tried to live healthy by eating well, limiting drinking, and going to the gym. However, in my worst years I often lived an almost self-destructive lifestyle. The following account is a short overview of a way of life I don’t recommend.
A Typical Morning or Afternoon Before a Bar Shift:
I would wake up between 20-30 minutes before work and if the restaurant was terrible I’d occasionally sob or curse into my pillow. “Not again,” I’d mumble as I hadn’t died in my sleep and now faced 8 more hours of hell. Next, I would look at my phone, hoping a power outage, weather event, or freak accident would give me the day off work. But in long, checker career I can’t remember that happening once.
Depending on my mood and hygiene I’d either get a few more minutes of sleep or take a quick shower. If I didn’t have clean work clothes I would rub out the stains with a cloth and hot water, then throw them in the dryer for a quick wrinkle release. After getting dressed I’d sit on the couch rather than eating a fast meal, having sacrificed the extra time to sleep in as much as possible before work.
Instead, I would take a few moments to sit on the couch in contemplation. I’d wonder about who I was working with, if there’d be reservations, think about a girl I had a crush on, and whether I should work somewhere else or go back to school. Then I would sigh and drive to work with my preferred music list blaring (often the best part of the day). If frost had accumulated on the windows I’d scrape just enough to allow minimal visibility, believing my crummy job warranted no more effort.
I’d enter the bar and clock-in just in time, partially out of a sense of professionalism, but also to show I refused to be in the building any longer than I had to.
A Typical Afternoon or Night After a Bar Shift:
If I ended my shift around 4:30 or 5 p.m. I would have a staff meal, and too often it was chicken wings, a burger, or something unhealthy. Depending whether the alcohol special was decent I’d stay for a few drinks or wait to go out later to drink with colleagues or the boys. In the first case I would have 1 or 2 (or 4) drinks. If the company at the bartop or staff table was absent or unpleasant I’d play one of my tablet games… usually World of Tanks, Pacific Battle, or Glory of Generals. That was usually more rewarding than interacting with humans beings and let me implement stratagems I had learnt from military history.
But if I had to close the bar I would rarely stick around after shift, unless there was a mis-poured drink, open beer bottle, or the management felt generous enough to buy us a beer (which wasn’t often). If the managers were cool I’d make conversation and ask if they’d come out for drinks.
Unless I was very tired, had a family event, or prior engagement (or the bars were closed) I would usually go to one of many places to drink. It didn’t matter if it was with colleagues, friends, or even myself, which I’ll detail another time. If I was lucky it would be with one of the cuter girls I’d met or worked with (which didn’t happen as often as I hoped).
Most outings would begin and end the same. Either my friends and/or colleagues would find a place with cheap drinks, go bar hopping, or if there was something going on meet up with others. I generally avoided clubs (except during my earlier years), which was good, but far too often I lost too money gambling whenever there were VLTs, which was bad.
If it was just the boys we’d usually see if there were nice and cute girls to talk to and potentially hang with, which didn’t happen too often. If I was with a girl I liked I’d focus on her, with mixed results. Too often the group would drink to last call and to our shame we drank and drove enough times to damn our souls. That we survived with less than 1 DUI per capita and zero fatalities was probably just dumb luck.
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If we still wanted to drink we’d go to someone’s home for a few more. By now the effects of alcohol started kicking in and depending upon how the night ended, we would either be in a good mood or bitter. Because too many nights ended in recriminations or petty fights, partially due to the stress of the industry, but often due to built up grudges. It’s not healthy but there it is. If it was just the boys we’d usually resolve everything before the night ended, or at least within 24 hours. If girls were involved the aftershocks could last weeks, months… and sometimes even years. Ultimately, we would either pass out there, walk home if it was close, and again I hate to admit it… drive home drunk.
Once I got home either I would pass out quickly, or watch science fiction and have a few more drinks. By then I was alone with my thoughts, which depending upon the day’s events was either good or bad (and far too often it was the latter). The amount of booze consumed, tips accumulated, and whether or not I had done well with a girl heavily influenced this outcome.
If I still had motivation and energy I would do some writing. After eating a big, usually unhealthy, meal or junk food, I’d pass out. Usually it was in bed (alone), sometimes it was on the couch, but in some pathetic instances I would wake up on the floor. Either way, unless I had the next day off this vicious cycle would usually repeat.
For much of my career I did this almost on autopilot for years…