Hangry

Today's post has to deal with a particular peeve of mine. You know, it happens every time. Every single damn time. Especially on slow nights.
You are slaving away at your Goonage, slinging drinks, or just being bored out of your mind because it is after happy hour and before the night rush, so yeah, you have all the time in the world to goof off. So, you think, "Now's a great time to get me somethin' to eat!"

Yup. I'm talking about the illustrious phenomenon of as soon as you are about to take a bite of your own delicious and savory meal, everyone in the bar decides they want to come in and order drinks.

Now, I have extensively studied this phenomenon over my many years of Goonage. And it is a proven fact that this phenomenon exists. Even if there is no one in the bar at all, as soon as you heat up your dinner, or as soon as that delivery guy brings you your Chinese, in walks the party bus.

I swear to fucking God.
Every single fucking time.

They be all like, "Hey! Time to party bartender! No time for grubs. Get us some dranks!"

Now, the customers don't really talk like that. I am sorely over-exaggerating. But, it is true that as soon as I am about to chow down, and mind you, I have learned to eat quite fast because of dealing with this phenomenon over so many years, that sometimes, it still gets me. It is an art form to eat an entire meal in a matter of minutes. And most of us in the Industry can agree, that we have mastered this art.

I can sit for a solid hour, three people in my bar, all chillin', drinkin' all slow and stuff. Having a relaxing time. And as soon as I pull out my tupperware bowl, it's like they have a sixth sense that perks them up.

Me: "Man, it's slow, and it's like 7:30. I should be good to eat. Hell yeah! Starving!" *pulls out lunch box and is about to bite into a delicious apple.
Customers, like everyone all at once: *sniff sniff* "Is the bartender trying to eat? Oh, man! I need a new drink! Mines empty! Off to the bar I go!"
Me, mouth full and dribble coming out the side because sauce exploded out of my Gyro: "Oh, mmhey!" *chomp chomp embarrassing wipe of dribble wash hands* "You need another round? One sec. No prob." *goes to make new drink*
"Customer: "Eh. Sorry, I know your trying to eat. My bad."
Me: "No worries bro. I'm used to it."

And off they go. New drink in hand, feeling mildly bad about interrupting me, but happy they have a new beverage. And I'm happy they are gone so I can continue my mission of eating all the things.
But. I swear, as soon as one leaves, up walks another.
And another.
And a fucking 'nother.
This keeps going for 30 solid minutes.
Then a party of 10.
Then people I helped half an hour ago need refills.
Then the party bus shows up.
And after my mini rush of 100 people, an hour later, I am finally able to take a decent bite of sustaining fuel.

By this time I am a little annoyed and my stomach is ready to jump out of my throat and eat the food itself.
GAAAAH!! I'm so hungry!! But, I can't complain too much, because while I am starving, at least I am raking in good cash. So usually I shrug it off, and get around to eating when the rush subsides.

This happens every time. Every. Single. Fucking. Time. There could be crickets on the bar-stools, and as soon as I open my mouth to insert whatever delicious treat I am about to intake, they want fucking drinks.
GDI!

*sigh*

I do have to admit, however, that most people are apologetic when they come up to the bar and see that I am trying to woof down food so I can get back to work. These loving people are like, "Oh hey, can I get another... Shit, man, I'm sorry. Go ahead and finish eating."
While this is polite, and I do appreciate the gesture, I really just want to irk even more because they really do stand there, expecting to watch me eat while they wait impatiently for a drink that will take me all of like 3 seconds to make if I stop what I am doing, versus the ten minutes it may take me to finish eating.
Damn passive aggressive people. They have a way of making you feel bad for just about anything.

It's totally cool guys. I promise.
Yes, I appreciate your kind gesture, but what I really want to do is get you your drink so you can go about your merry fun having business and leave me alone so I can continue to stuff my face before the next guy comes up for a refill.

Do you really expect that I will make you wait at the bar and stare at me eat for the next ten minutes and not help you?
I know, I can be a bit rough around the edges sometimes, but come on guy! Of course, I will get you your drink. I have absolutely no problem whatsoever pausing and getting you a refill. I am working, after all. And yes, while it does kind of suck that I do not get a defined break in which I can go hide in the back and enjoy my dinner, I really do not mind pausing my inhalation and getting you your drink.

 Now, if you are the douche who sees I am eating, and wants to stop me for an eternity and ask me long winded questions, then we may have a problem.

For instance, guy walks up to bar, sees I am eating, does the polite thing:
Douche X: "Hey there. Oh, sorry, don't mean to interrupt you."
Me: "It's cool man," *puts down chow, washes hands as I'm talking* "What can I get for you?"
Douche X: "Are you sure, I can wait..."
Me: *eye twitches but I smile* "No, it's really okay. What can I help you with?"
Douche X: "Are you suuuuure? I don't want to keep you. I know how hangry I can get if someone interrupts me when I am trying to eat."

At this point, I am starting to get a little peeved.
In the time it has taken this guy to convince me to ignore him and do my business, I could have gotten him and three other people drinks, and be back to eating by now. Ugh.

Me: "No. Really. I don't mind. Goes with the job, you know?" *fake laugh* (Hurry up and order something!)
Douche X: "Okaaaay. Well, let's see. What are your specials?"
I politely tell him.
Douche X: "Well, I've never had that beer before. Can I get a sample?"
Me: *eye twitch* "Sure thing. No prob." *runs inside to get a sample of beer and brings it back out to him*
Douche tastes, makes a face: "Man, is this an IPA? I don't like IPA's. Guess I should have told you. What else you got?"
Me, getting annoyed. I told him it was an IPA before I went to get the sample. It's in the name of the effing beer!: "Well, do you like light beers? Dark beers? Wheats?"
DX: "Hmmm. Sounds like you guys have a lot to choose from. I don't know. I'm not much of a beer drinker. Got any liquor specials?"

Oh, my fucking God. My food is starring at me at this point like, "Heeeelp meeee!! I'm getting frigid and tasteless!"

Me: "Actually no. We are mostly a beer bar. But we do have a full stock of liquor. Just about anything you could want. We just always have our specials on beer. What kind of drinks do you like?"
DX: "Well, I don't know. What do you suggest?"
Me, balls fists, but smiles: "Do you like Crown? Or any other type of Bourbon?"
DX: "Crown? Oh, no! Not since college!" *laughs* "Anything not so harsh?"

I want to pull my hair out at this point. I mean, this is a big guy, and I swear, if I suggest a Malibu something and he goes for it, I'm gonna scream. And at this point, five other people are now at the bar waiting for me to finish with this guy so I can help them. GAH!

Me: "Well, what do you normally drink? I am sure I have the stuff to make it."
DX: "How about Vodka. You have any Vodka?"
Me, finally! I'm fucking starving!: "Sure! We have several kinds. What do you like to mix it with?"
DX: "Nothing too crazy. How about Cranberry. You have Cranberry juice?"
Me, stoked I can finally get this guy moving away from my bar: "Sure do! Coming right up!" *makes move to grab a bottle and make victory drink*
DX, stops me: "Wait, what kind of Vodkas do you have?"
Me, facepalm: "A lot actually." *names through long ass list*
DX: "Oh, Absolut? I like that one."
Me: "No problem!"

And I make the drink, so fucking happy to get this guy moving along. He pays, tips decent, thank God, and as I am about to run through the line of people now standing and waiting for drinks, he just has to throw in, "Enjoy your dinner!" and smiles.

I want to punch babies.
My stomach wants to punch Him.

By the time I finally get everyone taken care of and get back to my food, it is freezing, shriveled, and not appealing to anyone. But, fuck it. I'm starving. So I throw it back in the microwave in the office, throw some hot sauce on it, and munch down in a record 30 seconds hiding in the back. Tummy is satisfied. Back to work I go! Hooah!

This phenomenon is fact with many other things in life other than eating habits at work. Like, if you have kids, and you finally get everyone quiet and think you will get a good fifteen minutes of peace for a nap of your own, as soon as you hit the couch pillow and close your eyes, BAM! Crying baby, or the phone rings, or the doorbell because your Amazon has arrived.
Or, if you wake up early wanting to get a few errands run before hitting the office, BAM! Traffic is backed up on every single street you attempt to drive on, making you an hour late for work.

It happens everywhere, to everyone, in some shape or form. It's like the Universe is a four year old with a magnifying glass and a sick sense of humor.

My problem really does not affect me so much. I mean it when I say I really am used to it. I do have to admit, it used to piss me off in the early years, but in my evolution, I have come to realize it is part of the flow of life. I even find it amusing most times. Laughing as I pick up my spork only to put it down again because someone walks up to the bar, in dire need of my professional drink pouring services. I just have to keep reminding myself that I signed up for this gig. And while it can be irritating at times, most times, I really do not mind.

Because the simple truth is?
Your tips are what enable me to eat in the first place.
So, yeah. I will pause for a few seconds to help you out.
Hell yeah I will.
*takes bite of sandwich*