The latest issue of a weekly rag in this town features its annual "Best Of..." winners. One of the category winners happens to be a nearby bar, specifically one I first began frequenting when I relocated here. It's just off the main road, attached to what looks like a couple of makeshift row homes that are actually empty retail spaces. In front of the building sits a small parking lot, with some more spaces across the street and in the adjacent dirt lot. The dirt lot is often jam-packed on weekend afternoons, thanks to the restaurant area being largely kid and pet friendly.
A friend and I started spending many evenings at this place, mostly due to the fact it was accessible by taking side streets, avoiding any bar-closing hour patrols. Back in the day I guess this place was sort of a rough house - there's still a few bullet holes visible in the ceiling. The front entrance leads you into the dining portion of the space. Lots of wooden tables, chairs, and booths, along with a few flat screens hanging on one of the walls. We'd always walk past all of this boring seating arrangements and head straight to the bar.
Our first time at this place, we sat outdoors on their giant forest green back patio. My first drink was some random red-colored beer. It wasn't very carbonated, but tasted pretty nice. After about four of these I was ready to collapse. I wasn't told the alcohol by volume for this beer clocked in at a whopping twelve percent. By state law here, anything higher than eight percent booze gets poured into an eight ounce glass, not the full pint sizes I was freely getting. While inside later, we meet up with the bartender, a short thirty something gal, chatty and kind to everyone. She went by Betty, and seemed to call everyone "baby." She had no idea about the booze content of the beer she kept pouring for me, and became deeply apologetic once she found out. We all had a good laugh, and on subsequent visits, she'd keep pouring me those full pint glasses of the red stuff until it ran out.
Over time my friend and I became regulars here, getting to know all of the bartenders and some of the waitstaff. Our tabs became less and less the more we frequented the place. We still left great tips, of course, but the connection was there. These were good people, friendly people.
That's until it all seemingly went to shit in the blink of an eye.
In the paper, the bar has a decent-sized ad taken out, thanking patrons for making them one of the best places in the area for some nondescript categories. Included in the ad is an image of what I assume is the current staff standing outside the front doors. Of the maybe twenty or so people in the photo, I only recognize one. She's the long time girlfriend of an old bartender who used to work there, still a friend of ours but who now works the bar at another restaurant.
Poor Betty was the first to go. Canned because she was fudging up numbers that caught someone's eye. She wasn't stealing, but I guess management didn't like the way she handled transactions during her shift. Another bartender, Megan, was replaced shortly after she went on maternity leave, and was told she wouldn't be able to get her job back. John, the friend now at another bar, voluntarily changed jobs when his suggestions on improving service fell on deaf ears. Other personnel we knew on a first name basis up and left around these moments. This mass exodus of familiar faces was astounding, mostly because the turnover happened so incredibly fast. We had been frequenting this bar for months, spending an occasional New Years and birthday there. Then, in a span of what couldn't have been more than ninety days time, every familiar face working there was gone, save John's girlfriend.
Now I'm certainly no stranger for witnessing turnover in the customer service industry. In fact, I've been on both sides of the ball there. While I have never been fired from a job, I know I was quickly replaced once I left. I have also seen coworkers getting fired on the spot, and in some cases had to be the one doing the firing. It's just the nature of the game in the field. But I have never been a part of one giant mass turnover as much as I saw through this bar and restaurant. So the fact they were somehow still able to win local notoriety after all this is pretty incredible.
I've since moved further away from this place, so my jaunts over there are few and far between these days. I only do so because their beer selection is outstanding, and it's hard to just walk away from those kind of options. There's a new bartender, one who seems to always work Thursday nights whenever we come through. Recently, he's begun to pour what should be eight ounce drinks into full pint glasses, and our tabs aren't as high as they used to be. Hopefully, this one stays.
Probably not, though.
A friend and I started spending many evenings at this place, mostly due to the fact it was accessible by taking side streets, avoiding any bar-closing hour patrols. Back in the day I guess this place was sort of a rough house - there's still a few bullet holes visible in the ceiling. The front entrance leads you into the dining portion of the space. Lots of wooden tables, chairs, and booths, along with a few flat screens hanging on one of the walls. We'd always walk past all of this boring seating arrangements and head straight to the bar.
Our first time at this place, we sat outdoors on their giant forest green back patio. My first drink was some random red-colored beer. It wasn't very carbonated, but tasted pretty nice. After about four of these I was ready to collapse. I wasn't told the alcohol by volume for this beer clocked in at a whopping twelve percent. By state law here, anything higher than eight percent booze gets poured into an eight ounce glass, not the full pint sizes I was freely getting. While inside later, we meet up with the bartender, a short thirty something gal, chatty and kind to everyone. She went by Betty, and seemed to call everyone "baby." She had no idea about the booze content of the beer she kept pouring for me, and became deeply apologetic once she found out. We all had a good laugh, and on subsequent visits, she'd keep pouring me those full pint glasses of the red stuff until it ran out.
Over time my friend and I became regulars here, getting to know all of the bartenders and some of the waitstaff. Our tabs became less and less the more we frequented the place. We still left great tips, of course, but the connection was there. These were good people, friendly people.
That's until it all seemingly went to shit in the blink of an eye.
In the paper, the bar has a decent-sized ad taken out, thanking patrons for making them one of the best places in the area for some nondescript categories. Included in the ad is an image of what I assume is the current staff standing outside the front doors. Of the maybe twenty or so people in the photo, I only recognize one. She's the long time girlfriend of an old bartender who used to work there, still a friend of ours but who now works the bar at another restaurant.
Poor Betty was the first to go. Canned because she was fudging up numbers that caught someone's eye. She wasn't stealing, but I guess management didn't like the way she handled transactions during her shift. Another bartender, Megan, was replaced shortly after she went on maternity leave, and was told she wouldn't be able to get her job back. John, the friend now at another bar, voluntarily changed jobs when his suggestions on improving service fell on deaf ears. Other personnel we knew on a first name basis up and left around these moments. This mass exodus of familiar faces was astounding, mostly because the turnover happened so incredibly fast. We had been frequenting this bar for months, spending an occasional New Years and birthday there. Then, in a span of what couldn't have been more than ninety days time, every familiar face working there was gone, save John's girlfriend.
Now I'm certainly no stranger for witnessing turnover in the customer service industry. In fact, I've been on both sides of the ball there. While I have never been fired from a job, I know I was quickly replaced once I left. I have also seen coworkers getting fired on the spot, and in some cases had to be the one doing the firing. It's just the nature of the game in the field. But I have never been a part of one giant mass turnover as much as I saw through this bar and restaurant. So the fact they were somehow still able to win local notoriety after all this is pretty incredible.
I've since moved further away from this place, so my jaunts over there are few and far between these days. I only do so because their beer selection is outstanding, and it's hard to just walk away from those kind of options. There's a new bartender, one who seems to always work Thursday nights whenever we come through. Recently, he's begun to pour what should be eight ounce drinks into full pint glasses, and our tabs aren't as high as they used to be. Hopefully, this one stays.
Probably not, though.