What I Did On My Summer Vacation: Fractional Bartender

Running your own business is a lot like doing improv: you need to be able to say “Yes! And…” a lot. You never know how the next opportunity is going to present itself, and you have the freedom to say “Yes!” to a lot of different things you’d never get to attempt in a full time role somewhere else. Sometimes those things are a bust, sometimes they lead you somewhere you’d never expect.

That’s how I found myself bartending on a Friday evening in July at the historic Stewart House in Athens, NY.

The Stewart House is a historic hotel with a tavern and riverside grill in Athens, NY, across the Hudson River from Hudson, NY. The 1883 Tavern sits on the corner of Water Street and 2nd Street, and across the street beneath majestic weeping willows is the River Grill. Our family have been regulars there for a few years, since Lois and Lon Ballinger bought and revitalized it. (I recently discovered that we’re in a photo on their website.)

Over the years, we’ve gotten to know the staff and they’ve gotten to know us. Outside of our favorite place in the world, Lot 2, it’s our happy place. So it was obvious that I’d head there on a Sunday evening for a solo dinner and drinks at the bar when our family was out of town.

I posted up at one of my favorite places to have a meal and a drink: the corner of the bar. Upon walking in, I saw Lois, who we’d chatted with over the years. I was wearing a summer shirt with anchors on it, and she immediately complimented me on the shirt, thinking it was perfect for a place on the Hudson River with nautical murals and a private room called The Captain’s Table. She said “That’s a great shirt. You have cool tattoos. You look like a cool bartender.”

Turns out, they needed some help serving the crowds on Friday nights when the Athens Performing Arts Corp. staged free concerts in the adjacent waterfront park.

Next thing you know, I’m a cool bartender.

I learned a lot!

It’s really hard.

It’s one of the hardest things I’ve done. It’s mentally and physically exhausting, you’re in constant motion and always context switching (yeah, I know, I’ve said that’s “not a real thing” once or twice). My last shift was on a Sunday, and went from noon to 9:30pm. I sat down once for about 15 minutes the whole time, and that’s only because the manager, Audrey, made me. The next day my back and legs were sore.

I was constantly running through the kitchen to get more limes or beer, back to the liquor storage room for more Tito’s, outside to get more ice or a case of Corona. I’d easily rack up 8,000 steps a shift. And the need for ice and cases of Corona and racks of clean glasses never stops.

Neither do the orders when it’s busy: customers at the bar ordering food and drinks, tickets spitting out of the printer for the servers handling the tables, folks needing to settle their check while you realize you’re running low on Michelob Ultra and Bloody Mary garnish and rosé.

When it slows down you clean up, collect checks and try to restock. You learn to make the most efficient movements: Grab cash tips and empty glasses on the way to the cooler to get a cold pint glass and pour a beer; grab more lemons while you’re in the walk-in to get a few more bottles of rosé. I wasn’t very efficient most of the time! But I learned and tried to get better with every trip.

Planning is cheap…

I learned a ton my first shift by shadowing Adriana, one of the awesome bartenders who was in constant motion and is a well-known “stocker”. Any downtime she had was spent taking stock or replenishing it, cutting more fruit, getting more ice, packing the coolers with wine and beer, restocking silverware and napkins. It’s all about scale. Lois always pressed me to have 3x the backup on cut lemons, limes, and cucumbers (for their delicious Cucumber Collins!), often joining me to cut fruit and fill 32oz. containers in what felt like a Sisyphean task.

I like a well-made drink, I like serving them and consuming them. I think I make a solid margarita, Manhattan, Old Fashioned, Negroni and Vesper. No matter how much you planned, you could never anticipate everything. When the first customers started showing up, you had to start doing.

…you need to execute

That’s where the adrenaline started kicking in. As much as I hoped that the crowd was a lot of “Tito’s and sodas, beers and Bloody Marys”, I could never anticipate what the next order would throw my way.

I got a lot of things wrong! The point of sale (POS) system proved to be surprisingly intimidating for someone who has worked with hardware and software for the entirety of his career. I got a Mint Julep wrong, and thankfully the customer helped walk me through it to deliver a really good one. I sort of flooded the outdoor bar area when I tried to drain both rinsing sinks at once without realizing you need to do one at a time. I forgot you need to actually tap the beer kegs for beer to flow.

When things were overwhelming, Lois, Audrey or Helen would magically appear next to me and simply say “Just breathe and smile!”. When I found myself wondering if I could really hack it, this helped ground me. I knew what to do next immediately, because it wasn’t forever, it was for right now. A lot of it is somewhat simple, repetitive tasks, muscle memory. Stringing that together for seven-plus hours was daunting, but somehow comforting. During my last shift, when Audrey made me sit down to eat something, I found myself unable to sit still. Waiting for my food, I glanced at the bar and hopped up, instinctively setting up clean glassware that had just been delivered from inside. Audrey caught me, and told me “That’s not sitting down!” with a smile. I sat back down, grateful.

Learning by doing

I love knowing that at this stage in my life, I can still learn so much. It’s simultaneously humbling and fulfilling. Shadowing Adriana was amazing, but it’s not what you’d think of as a traditional onboarding or training. There’s no way I could mentally catalog everything I observed and learned from her, so I had to learn by doing. I’m usually a huge fan of learning by doing, mainly when it doesn’t involve trying to make 7 Bloody Mary’s while the party at the corner of the bar is trying to order food and the printer is spitting tickets like a baseball player spitting sunflower seeds. I got my first taste of that my first shift when the River Grill got so overwhelmed Adriana had to go outside to help Sarah, leaving me to handle the 1883 Tavern solo. I’d been a “bartender” all of 3 hours by that point.

Watching Audrey make a Negroni or a Moscow Mule was so helpful. Watching Adriana take to-go food orders and settle checks was crucial. Watching Helen pitch in and grab beers and pour wine while I was making more complicated drinks was inspiring. Closing out the register at the end of the shift was terrifying (please don’t let me be short, please don’t let me be short!) You can’t anticipate everything, so you have to learn how to handle a ton of situations simply by experiencing them. If you don’t have the beer a customer wants or a key ingredient for a drink, you have to pivot and find something else they might like. And hope you learn for the next time.

I got a lot of things right!

One of my biggest fears bartending at a place that we love as a family was screwing up so spectacularly that I’d not only not get to bartend there again, but that I’d be afraid to show my face there as a customer again.

Most Fridays I was responsible for getting the River Grill bar outside up and running for veteran bartenders Adriana and Sarah who would take over for the bulk of the shift outside while I handled the 1883 Tavern. But that meant I’d have to cover the River Grill for up to an hour between opening and when they arrived from their other jobs. That was terrifying.

The great thing about The Stewart House is they do the simple things great – margaritas, fish and chips, craft beers – and they also come up with cocktails that are off the beaten path but familiar. One of the first orders I got was for table service, and it was for a pretty esoteric drink. I don’t even remember what the drink is called! (edit: it's a Purple Haze!) It’s a take on a gin fizz: blue Empire gin, lemon juice, simple syrup, egg whites, seltzer, topped with mint. The first time I made one, server Helen looked at it and said “Looks great to me!”. I hoped it wouldn’t get sent back.

My first attempt at a Purple Haze. Helen declared “Looks great to me!”

When the order came in for a second one from the same table, I was relieved. Later, a woman appeared at the bar. She asked me if I’d made that blue gin thingy, telling me she really liked it and thanking me. Every successful and pleasant interaction with a customer was positive reinforcement (and a decent tip, it turned out).

People like a good story

One of the best parts of the job was chatting with people when I had time (and even when I didn’t). A lot of regulars were curious about me, because I wasn’t the regular bartender they expected. Music in the waterfront park attracted fans from up and down the river and surrounding towns, many of whom had never been to The Stewart House and were curious about its history and the area. Some came in on boats as they hopped along the river on a weekend, stopping for drinks along the way.

Being gregarious probably helped me as a bartender, whether it’s telling the curious story of how a guy from Brooklyn came to bartend at an upstate hotel, discussing college football realignment or helping a family with recommendations for the best ice cream in the area (starting with The Stewart House). Being authentic and approachable is something that I hope comes naturally for me. I like to think it’s a more pleasant way to go through life.

The customer isn’t always right

I loved it when a customer helped me make them something they really enjoyed, even if I didn’t get it right the first time. I loved making people’s weekends a little better with a decent drink or burger to go or something for their kids.

I didn’t like it so much when inebriated 60 year old fans of an Eagles cover band harangued me or threw ice at me, thinking they were being playful. I’m a white-passing male, I can’t imagine what this is like for my colleagues who are women and BIPOC.

I learned late in the game that the bartender is the gatekeeper. No one gets a drink unless I say so. I’m way too eager to please to have enforced this in my limited time behind the bar, but I realize I should have.

Consequences beyond yourself

LIke a lot of businesses, it’s a team sport. I’ve always associated bartending with a certain lone wolf mythology, and that was absolutely dispelled by my time at The Stewart House. I had to ask for help. A lot! When I needed help with the POS or finding ingredients or more ice or pouring a glass of Gruner while I was slammed, someone was always there to help me. No one said "that's not my job" and everyone pitched in to make it all work. I like to think I helped as well. I forgot that I was there for a reason: I was OK at it!

I also realized that people depended on me. Customers depended on me for a decent drink, and the servers depended on me to get drinks to their tables as quickly as I could. I realized that if I fell behind or messed up, they bore the brunt of my lapse. They’d have to comp something, or get less of a tip, or bear the ire of their customer and have to apologize. That materially impacted them and their wallets. It made me want to do well on their behalf. I was obligated to them in a way that didn’t feel like a chore, it felt like an honor.

A lot of what I learned was familiar to me, but in the much different setting of a product and tech career I’ve had for years. There’s nothing like getting to experience the behind-the-scenes mechanics of how a bar and restaurant work; it was invaluable to me. It was truly an honor to be entrusted with the reputation of a historic place that my family really loves, and make customers happy. I hope I get a chance to do it again. In the meantime, I’m getting way better at cutting a lot of limes.

A version of this piece was published on LinkedIn.

Page updated

Report abuse