Shaken, Not Heard
And why loudmouths won't cut it in Clubland
Club bartenders wear many hats: alchemist, referee, sounding board and a friendly ear to listen to your woes, both club adjacent or otherwise. Most importantly, the Club bartender is a diplomat. He holds the most visible role in Clubland and, in many ways, is the face of the club. If the club is open, he is there attending to the throngs of thirsty club rats.
It’s for this reason that the Club bartender is perhaps the most consequential hire that the Club will make.
Imagine you walk into the bar of your dreams. For some folks, this may be a dive一a hole in the wall with a dart board that looks like the banks of the Somme in 1916 and nary a balanced barstool to be seen. For others, maybe a perfect watering hole has gold bar carts and Louis XVI style seating.
Regardless of how breathtaking the setting is, how great the prices are, or how great the selection of drinks is; if the bartender is a dick, there’s a good chance that next time you need your thirst quenched you will take your business elsewhere.
Now, for any old pub on the block, maybe that’s just another day. Young people are drinking less, but there’s plenty of booze lovers for everyone to have a share of their wallets. And, if worse comes to worse, there’ll always be at least three frat boys desperate to climb atop a barstool, suck in on a Juul pod and (loudly) order a round.
But Clubland has no frat boys to save them. There isn’t a line of customers queued up around the block waiting to get in and if cocktail orders go elsewhere, the club is dealt a blow.Food and beverage are some of the biggest drivers of revenue — after initiation and membership dues— and possess margins thinner than a club staff’s patience for dress code violations.
It’s what also makes expectations of the Club bartender much higher than the one at the corner tavern. Clubs demand an unparalleled understanding of mixology and adherence to two rules:
1. Never say the words, “I can’t do that”.
2. But, if you must break the first rule, always follow with a recommendation for a better drink that they’ve probably never heard of.
Discretion must also be a skill of the Club bartender, especially considering how thin the walls of Clubland are. Down the street, your latenight, spilling-your-sorrows conversation might become tomorrow’s tale tall to an attractive customer that the bartender hopes is a repeat one.
As the only person at Clubland USA who has ever worked behind a bar, two rules usually reign supreme: The first being that cash gets served first—or your attention is driven by the size of the wad of cash hanging in front of you— and the second being, if they don’t know what they want, they get a gin and tonic.
Clubland would cease to exist if these rules were ever enacted.
As a citizen of Clubland, I propose that we institute our own two rules that should be standard across our institutions.
1. Pour cocktails to the rim
Bowing for a sip at the altar of the bar is always preferable to the revelation that your bartender is stingy with the grog; a worshipping club rat is a happy club rat.
2. Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell
A club rat’s personal affairs are his own. You will overhear all manner of gossip, scandal and the occasional crude remark. Comments and stories are best left to hushed tones and muffled snickers in the corner of the room that only find their way up to the bar because you pour your cocktails to the rim.
Being an excellent mixologist is not enough to thrive at the Club bar. As a club bartender serving the hordes of club rats that come through your doors, you are also expected to operate with unrivaled discretion.
After all, loose lips don’t sink ships, they sink clubs.