The photo is to remind us here in Seattle that the sky exists. And occasionally, unlike today, it’s not grey and sheeting down rain.
Anyway, most of the bartenders I know are named Sarah. It’s an odd truth. And all them Sarahs are fucking cool. As are a bunch of others. Yeah, it pays for them to recognize customers who come in occasionally, or regularly. However, there’s no real reason for people to go out of their way to be nice even though I am a customer. I like to think it’s my winning personality. It’s not. It’s more likely because I appreciate people who work hard, are relatable, and don’t mind if a single woman sits at their bar and writes or reads, and occasionally chats with them as they work.
Bartenders have an interesting job—counselor, drink slinger, confidant, cop. I like to watch people at work. Chefs, teachers, etc. It’s always informative to see how they step into challenges and maneuver through difficult personalities, charming an asshole into behaving, and still manage to turn $1000 worth of orders over a quick lunch shift.
T's stories 