Like many a woman before me, I cobble together a living standing on my feet for long hours slinging suds, shaking spirits and popping corks. My bartendress performance occurs all while listening to the woes and worries, speeches and slurs, dialogue and discourse of thirsty customers. Like most, I would imagine, I never aspired to tending bar and instead found myself quite clumsily behind the taps of a friend's lounge many years ago while young and desperate. Comfort and confidence came pretty quick at my new post, almost as fast as the money. Ever since it has been a way to supplement, or the main source of my income. After years of thinking (with a slight chip on my shoulder) it was a temporary stepping stone to something else, I finally embraced it for it's ease and flexibility and also for providing me with a rather comfortable and fun filled life.
In the same strange mood of last summer, I have recently taken on extra shifts and am currently working not one, but three entirely different bartending gigs. I now spend every night of the week but one filling up my tip jar which is a delight for my piggy bank and my near future, which I am planning to make some transitions in. Though I would certainly rather be lapping up long days of sun and sea, I won't complain about this choice. Instead I am focused on the new changes that will be opening up for me soon and my pending escape to Italy in just over a week. More on that to come...
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