The Best Job Ever

Where else can you; work only 32 hours a week, get paid vacations, a 401k, medical, dental and visual insurance, money (much of it unreported), and all the hook ups one would want?


I used to be a bartender. Well... that's not quite right.
I was the bartender at the spot in our locale.
But the thing about being a bartender is that everyone assumes that you know "what's up".
Inevitably, you end up knowing what's up.


Regardless of how much it is, the money you make doesn't matter.
If you happen to be the man at your spot, everyone wants to hook you up.
I used to be able to pay my bills for the month in one or two days worth of work.
But spending the left over money becomes a problem.
Why? Because like one's lawyer, doctor or accountant - everyone considers you to be their bartender.
People give you passes to games, concerts, clubs, movies, dinners, or whatever.


I'm not talking about that guy who just hands you a beer and takes your money (that guy is just a cashier).
But the great bartenders act as a concierge. He uses his hook-ups to hook you up.
He knows everybody and everything (but can repeat none of it).
Ballers only like to be served by their bartender.
Even if it's just a beer in a bottle - their bartender has to get it for them.

If I went to dinner, it was paid for before I could ask for the check.
If I went to a club - ropes, lines, cover charges or tabs wouldn't exist.
Bartenders know other bartenders. From the House of Blues to Prego on Canon to the tables at Caesar's - bartenders hook up other bartenders.


But this wasn't the good part.
Since most of one's money goes unreported - you qualify for everything.


I went to the emergency room one night.
I had my insurance cards as well as my information from another carrier.
As I was waiting to be seen, a girl named Sophia happened to walk by.
Sophia worked for Medicaid (the California version of Medicare).
When she saw me in line, she waved me over to sign an application for the service.

Since my pay stubs showed so little income - I qualified for Medicaid at a rate of $5.00 per month (but only for the months I used the service).
Five dollars was less than my deductible - five dollars sounded like a good deal.
Five dollars covered the visits to the emergency room, STD clinic (hey, I was a bartender - at that age and at 2 am, a lot of girls were looking for a one night friend), check ups, follow up visits and medications.
The five dollars was only a one time charge per month. (No wonder California is going bankrupt).

I lived in an apartment complex that had indoor pools, basketball courts and racquetball courts. It also has two weight rooms, an outdoor basketball court, three exterior pool, and twelve tennis courts.
The rent was $1600 a month for a double master (two master suites - not a double sized room) unit.
Since my room mate and I were both bartenders - $800 a month (each) was doable.
But since we were both bartenders, we qualified for the $485.00 (total) affordable housing program.
At $242.50 each, that's even better.

Luxury complexes that use municipal money for financing are required to set aside a certain percentage of their units for low income tenants.
Since most complexes don't really want low income tenants - many recruit tipped employees (bartenders,cocktail waitresses, strippers, etc.) to fill these units.
So we paid cheap rent to live near a bunch of easy women (this is why cheap STD clinics are important).


Every car salesman, writer, promoter, pilot, cop or shop owner the loved attention.
If they thought of you as their bartender - they would always try to hook you up.
Writers would give me concert or game tickets, make sure I got my picture in the paper or give me the promo material from their last story.
Cops would just talk to me, instead of giving me a ticket.
People who worked in the Industry would give me cutouts before the products went on sale.
I met my doctor, lawyer and physical therapist from working at a bar.
Legal fees were waved, prescriptions were filled and rehabs performed - all because they thought of me as their bartender.
It was like being Ed Norton's character in Fight Club.


But the dark side is where the money is.

Strippers tip like crazy.
Athletes, actors and musicians tip less than a successful (reputed) drug dealer.
But when the so called celebrities don't get the attention they're used to - they chill out and try to tip as much as the "regular" strippers and dealers.
More celebs bring in more strippers and dealers - which brings in more celebs - which brings in more dealers and strippers, and on and on.


I loved being a bartender. It's better than being an owner or manager.
I never had to worry about paying a club's bills, or managing a bunch of prima-donna waitresses, or booking talent to perform.
The money was easy and so were the frills.


The down side is that all the money and frills were too easy.
No one should live so well for having to do so little (in terms of work or education).
I think this is why so many who make easy money self destruct.
It just doesn't seem fair.
There has to be something of worth in this life.
There has to be more than money, women, gambling, drinking and parties.


Sometimes I think I'm wasting my time trying to help others.
Sometimes I long for the easy days.
Sometimes I think I made the wrong choice.
But then I remember - that was then, this is now.


(But it is the best job ever.)