I Was A Bartender

A female bartender. A mythical creature which does not exist.

Once upon a time, bartending was my life.

I lived it, breathed it, and was captivated by it. I went to school for it. I wanted a lounge. With drinks of my own creation, unique quirks like Caesar spices on the table to add flavor to your exact liking, and a wide variety of diverse, intriguing wines. It was my dream; not anymore. I've never been taken seriously for it. I am female; therefore, I am not a bartender. Not in upscale lounges or fine dining. I could be in bars, Hooters, maybe beer gardens- but not as a profession. This has been solidified over the years with all the restaurants I've worked in, but mainly with my current boss.

I work hard. I work in a fine dining restaurant, behind a bar with no seats at the wood. I am paid server wage, without the opportunity to sell liquor or earn tips. He does not work. He plays Candy Crush behind the bar all throughout his shift. He is paid 7 dollars more per hour than myself.

My managers asked if I could have a raise, to the wage I was promised upon starting, 2 dollars above server wage. The owner refused. He said he would find someone else to replace the other bartender and I was just filling in until he found someone else. Someone male. It's been awhile, I'm not making enough to pay bills, and I'm in school so I can't quit or find another job.

In conclusion, I am not a bartender. I never was, I never will be. If I had to pick between being a bartender and being female, I choose being me. I hate to admit it, but over the years my passion has died. I am worn down. I give up. I am many things, but I will never be a respected, professional mixologist.