Barcelona Wine Bar always had a two-and-a-half to three-hour wait list. We maintained it with paper and No. 2 pencil. When the line got that long I would tell hopeful diners honestly how many names were ahead of them but anything less than that — 90 minutes, 45 — I’d qualify per our manager’s direction as “a drink, a drink and a half.” Washington DC is a town of lawyers but it wasn’t my job to be precise. It was my job to help people feel welcome and settle in by the bar.
Oh thank you Cams!! I have written a fair amount of first-person stories, both for my blog and the stage. (I've performed in a few oral storytelling shows.) I've never written a fictional story though. Something about it inspires me with so much awe that I get scared to even attempt. Very jealous of those (like Sherman above!) who've mastered the short story form.
I think that writing a short story would be to step through a portal on the other side of which the real world has taken on just a little more reality than usual, a la Dali…
You just made me think of 1Q84 by Haruki Marakami, which I just happen to be rereading right now. That book has got me thinking about writing stories too.
He's an amazing writer. My first one was The Wind-up Bird Chronicle, so that might be as good a starter as any. 1Q84 is a banger, but it's super long. Kafka on the Shore is maybe my favourite. I've read that one three times and, honestly, I'm sure I'll read it again.
Great. So the Eagles were right: "City girls just seem to find out early
How to open doors with just a smile"
These men hitting on you reminded me of something that really made me laugh. I used to attend classes at a place called the BIshopsgate Institute in London. Just around the corner there's a Costa and I always went in there to buy a drink before the class started. The person who served me was really pretty, and in her 20s, so I always chatted to her about her ambitions for uni and stuff like that. I never hit on her as such. Anyway, another man from the film course and I met up there one afternoon for a bite to eat and a coffee, and we were served by this same girl, who gave me a lovely smile. When we left I said to my friend, "You know that girl who smiled at me? She fancies me you know." To which he replied, "Of course she does Terry, because in some universe a 20-something girl fancies a middle-aged man!" 😂 It also reminds me of something even funnier, which perhaps I'll write about one of these days.
Hahaha that's great! I do feel for men trying to figure out which smiles are genuine versus "transactional," though I've always felt that's a false American binary. Of course I was expected to smile for my job, but I love human beings and genuinely adored 95% of the people I met at that restaurant. It's probably my French side, but I also think a little flirting simply makes the art of conversation more fun. It doesn't need to "mean" anything or imply overwhelming desire per se.
Please do write about whatever memory your comment inspired!
I will, Alicia. I was concerned that you would think I'm an old perv, but feel reassured. Which reminds me, I asked a 20 something girl if she fancied going for a coffee some time, as we were on a course and shared a similar sense of humour. But the next day I wondered if she might think I had ulterior motives, so I said to her, Look, perhaps we'd better not go for a coffee because I don't want you to think I'm an old perv, to which an elderly woman there said to me "You're not old!"😂
I feel sorry for women, as even the most innocent smile can get most blokes thinking "I'm in with a chance here". (See my article on rhyming slang for an example of such a persona). It must get very tedious.
Yes, I think a bit of flirting is healthy and fun 🤓
What a great ending! I want to know if you said yes after he called your bluff! (But don’t tell me! It’s better not knowing! Wondering I this happened more than once! Wondering if 3 days turned into 3 years into decades!)
Still working there currently! Got moved up from the turn house because some pipes burst and flooded half the building 😂 what makes it interesting is you really get to know certain members because they’re regulars.
Oh that flooding sounds like a disaster! But relationships with regulars really make those kind of jobs. I'm still close friends with some of our regulars years later, and often run into others around town. Makes this town truly feel like "home"
Loved this!! So impressive and awesome how you painted such a clear picture of your years of experience in relatively few words. I really felt like I could envision each experience as I read it. Thank you for sharing this, Alicia :)
What would life be without a little service industry experience? I love that you had a full plate of people and story. It’s fun! I was one of those early development kids and memorized anything, including the History of Rock-n-Roll and The Bartender’s Bible. At age seven, I escaped the waiting room during a modeling gig for a store called Chocolate Soup and rode the glass elevators up to the Hilton Rainforest (it was the 70s) and ordered a Tom Collins and a Pink Squirrel, until my grandfather found me.
When I turned 21, I applied for work in a French Quarter restaurant bar and fibbed about experience, but knew my menu. (In fact, nod knowingly and figure it out is how I developed a successful decade of design in SF.) You get to throw the party and listen to all the guest gab. And I sure did a lot of my own gabbing all over New Orleans and New York, my gosh! I did cocktail twice in NYC, also initiated with the nod knowingly approach, when asked by bar managers while sitting as a guest sipping on White Russians before I knew I was actually allergic to milk. The first was in what I called “the-leopard-lounge-not-a-strip-club” though happy hour was an inconsistent whenever with no receipts, such a headache of conflict! (Also, the place where I found Jacq’s inclusion from the most alluring red flag waver ever encountered) Just saying the name of it dropped giggle bombs at the bar in the Bluebell Cafe, my regular Gramercy hangout. A pal asked me to cocktail in an intense club called Hush, which I did only on holidays. I was a recruited bar guest from Mardi Gras town.
I wouldn’t trade any of it! Not the service industry, not my research library work in the Guggenheim, not the years as a Mardi Gras float rider. There is so much to learn from observing human behavior. - An observation in the Guggenheim is what causes me to suspect that 1000 page book on entertainment addiction was meant for tap-out awareness - from the Moving Pictures exhibition video room around the spiral top. I was actually positioned between the tail end of Mapplethorp’s orchids cutting a corner and Robert Smithson, who was a European architect magnet. Fun times indeed. I miss Mardi Gras and plan to visit for it next year. ... Back to journaling a letter to Eros. Cheers! And happy V Day to you and M. That’s the double arrow, my friend. 🏹🏹💞🥂
Oh my gosh, I love all of this! I really want to hear more about that modeling gig for Chocolate Soup, for one. And what's the Hilton Rainforest?? So much imagery and joy in just that first paragraph. And "giggle bombs." I adore your prose.
What is life without a little service experience, indeed. I definitely had to learn a LOT when cocktailing. That's where I fell back on "I don't know my liquors, but I'll flirt may way through this..." ha! "Leopard Lounge Not a Strip Club." Sounds like a place worth a visit!
Happy Valentine's right back atcha! Eros is such a dangerous/sneaky character.
Love this, Alicia! It’s nice to know that people—men, in this case—are able to open that door and invite you in yet still be perfectly gracious if you chose to not walk through it.
I was going to mention Danler’s Sweetbitter but then you mentioned it at the end! Great book. I enjoyed your take on being a hostess in your twenties. It reminded me of myself. When I was 25 I briefly worked as a server at a busy pizza restaurant in San Francisco. I sucked at it. I once lost my dinner notepad. I hated working there. Line out the door the whole shift. Rude people. The pressure. Funny. They fired me. Creative people are strange. (Meaning me.) I remember thinking, How is it that I can write a goddamned novel, yet I can’t serve pizza? I later found out I wasn’t alone!
You are most definitely not alone!! My god, serving is SO much harder than people realize. It's character building, really. I finally quit when they got short on female bussers to clean the bathrooms and asked me to help pitch in. I'd dressed up to socialize, not handle the trash!! (Nothing wrong with the latter... just please, those dresses were expensive ha.) Still have so much admiration for everyone in the service industry. (Also, the complexities of just carrying a damn tray?! I laughed the first time someone asked me if I could do it and then I tried it and was like, damn.)
Isn't Danler wonderful? Her prose reminds me a bit of James Salter actually in his "A Sport and a Pastime."
Feb 16, 2023·edited Feb 17, 2023Liked by Alicia Kenworthy
Thank you for the book recommendation!
I have been working as a server for much longer than I want to admit to. At this late date it works best when I can let go of the need to do a good job or even to make money to survive another day, and just try when possible to view each person at each table as another soul trying to navigate the road from birth to death, holding on to the shards of loves and dreams without being in too much pain or fear.
That's a beautiful way to view it! And a part of me is jealous you still have a front row seat to that humanity, David. You have all my respect. It's exhausting and almost spiritual work, really.
Thank you, I will try to remember this next time I feel frustrated or useless. But it’s true: often while waiting on someone their public persona dissolves and you can suddenly see their beating heart, their dreams, joys, losses, defeats and triumphs. Revealing and humbling.
I see all that in your writing above as well. Super lovely piece with a great warm updraft in the final lines. More, please!
You shine through so well in this piece. Chapeau !
Merci !!
The perfect ending. Loved this little story. It shows that you've written stories before, You *have* written stories before, right?
Oh thank you Cams!! I have written a fair amount of first-person stories, both for my blog and the stage. (I've performed in a few oral storytelling shows.) I've never written a fictional story though. Something about it inspires me with so much awe that I get scared to even attempt. Very jealous of those (like Sherman above!) who've mastered the short story form.
I think that writing a short story would be to step through a portal on the other side of which the real world has taken on just a little more reality than usual, a la Dali…
You just made me think of 1Q84 by Haruki Marakami, which I just happen to be rereading right now. That book has got me thinking about writing stories too.
Ah, I haven’t read Marakami, except I think one short story. Maybe that would be a good book to start with? I hope you do write some stories!
He's an amazing writer. My first one was The Wind-up Bird Chronicle, so that might be as good a starter as any. 1Q84 is a banger, but it's super long. Kafka on the Shore is maybe my favourite. I've read that one three times and, honestly, I'm sure I'll read it again.
Thank you so much for this!
Love it! Smart and sassy.
❤️💃
One of the greatest things I've read in a long time. Refreshing, inspiring, and grounding. Thank you!
Thank you so much, Maxwell!
This is so good. The edgy wistfulness is perfect!
Thank you Sherman!!
You’re welcome.
I agree, Sherman.
Absolutely love how this piece turned out!
Thank you Lyle!! Really appreciated your early feedback and encouragement
Great. So the Eagles were right: "City girls just seem to find out early
How to open doors with just a smile"
These men hitting on you reminded me of something that really made me laugh. I used to attend classes at a place called the BIshopsgate Institute in London. Just around the corner there's a Costa and I always went in there to buy a drink before the class started. The person who served me was really pretty, and in her 20s, so I always chatted to her about her ambitions for uni and stuff like that. I never hit on her as such. Anyway, another man from the film course and I met up there one afternoon for a bite to eat and a coffee, and we were served by this same girl, who gave me a lovely smile. When we left I said to my friend, "You know that girl who smiled at me? She fancies me you know." To which he replied, "Of course she does Terry, because in some universe a 20-something girl fancies a middle-aged man!" 😂 It also reminds me of something even funnier, which perhaps I'll write about one of these days.
Hahaha that's great! I do feel for men trying to figure out which smiles are genuine versus "transactional," though I've always felt that's a false American binary. Of course I was expected to smile for my job, but I love human beings and genuinely adored 95% of the people I met at that restaurant. It's probably my French side, but I also think a little flirting simply makes the art of conversation more fun. It doesn't need to "mean" anything or imply overwhelming desire per se.
Please do write about whatever memory your comment inspired!
I will, Alicia. I was concerned that you would think I'm an old perv, but feel reassured. Which reminds me, I asked a 20 something girl if she fancied going for a coffee some time, as we were on a course and shared a similar sense of humour. But the next day I wondered if she might think I had ulterior motives, so I said to her, Look, perhaps we'd better not go for a coffee because I don't want you to think I'm an old perv, to which an elderly woman there said to me "You're not old!"😂
I feel sorry for women, as even the most innocent smile can get most blokes thinking "I'm in with a chance here". (See my article on rhyming slang for an example of such a persona). It must get very tedious.
Yes, I think a bit of flirting is healthy and fun 🤓
LOL! Did you go out with the elderly lady instead??
It took me so long to learn *not* to smile in France... or at least, not as much as I usually do. I had every Monoprix cashier thinking I was in love.
😂
🤣🤣
I love this story, Alicia! So self-aware and indeed so joyful. Brava!
Thank you, Russell!! Your encouraging feedback early on meant a lot!
What a great ending! I want to know if you said yes after he called your bluff! (But don’t tell me! It’s better not knowing! Wondering I this happened more than once! Wondering if 3 days turned into 3 years into decades!)
Lol thank you Wil!! I'll keep my lips sealed re: what happened next 🤐
After starting service work in high tea and graduating to working a country club bar in my 20s, this checks out.
Ooh country club bar! That must have been a fascinating scene
Still working there currently! Got moved up from the turn house because some pipes burst and flooded half the building 😂 what makes it interesting is you really get to know certain members because they’re regulars.
Oh that flooding sounds like a disaster! But relationships with regulars really make those kind of jobs. I'm still close friends with some of our regulars years later, and often run into others around town. Makes this town truly feel like "home"
so poetic and calming weirdly. I really miss this fully in person aspect of life :)
Thank you so much Minh. I really miss it, too!
Loved this!! So impressive and awesome how you painted such a clear picture of your years of experience in relatively few words. I really felt like I could envision each experience as I read it. Thank you for sharing this, Alicia :)
Thank you so much Syd!!
What would life be without a little service industry experience? I love that you had a full plate of people and story. It’s fun! I was one of those early development kids and memorized anything, including the History of Rock-n-Roll and The Bartender’s Bible. At age seven, I escaped the waiting room during a modeling gig for a store called Chocolate Soup and rode the glass elevators up to the Hilton Rainforest (it was the 70s) and ordered a Tom Collins and a Pink Squirrel, until my grandfather found me.
When I turned 21, I applied for work in a French Quarter restaurant bar and fibbed about experience, but knew my menu. (In fact, nod knowingly and figure it out is how I developed a successful decade of design in SF.) You get to throw the party and listen to all the guest gab. And I sure did a lot of my own gabbing all over New Orleans and New York, my gosh! I did cocktail twice in NYC, also initiated with the nod knowingly approach, when asked by bar managers while sitting as a guest sipping on White Russians before I knew I was actually allergic to milk. The first was in what I called “the-leopard-lounge-not-a-strip-club” though happy hour was an inconsistent whenever with no receipts, such a headache of conflict! (Also, the place where I found Jacq’s inclusion from the most alluring red flag waver ever encountered) Just saying the name of it dropped giggle bombs at the bar in the Bluebell Cafe, my regular Gramercy hangout. A pal asked me to cocktail in an intense club called Hush, which I did only on holidays. I was a recruited bar guest from Mardi Gras town.
I wouldn’t trade any of it! Not the service industry, not my research library work in the Guggenheim, not the years as a Mardi Gras float rider. There is so much to learn from observing human behavior. - An observation in the Guggenheim is what causes me to suspect that 1000 page book on entertainment addiction was meant for tap-out awareness - from the Moving Pictures exhibition video room around the spiral top. I was actually positioned between the tail end of Mapplethorp’s orchids cutting a corner and Robert Smithson, who was a European architect magnet. Fun times indeed. I miss Mardi Gras and plan to visit for it next year. ... Back to journaling a letter to Eros. Cheers! And happy V Day to you and M. That’s the double arrow, my friend. 🏹🏹💞🥂
Oh my gosh, I love all of this! I really want to hear more about that modeling gig for Chocolate Soup, for one. And what's the Hilton Rainforest?? So much imagery and joy in just that first paragraph. And "giggle bombs." I adore your prose.
What is life without a little service experience, indeed. I definitely had to learn a LOT when cocktailing. That's where I fell back on "I don't know my liquors, but I'll flirt may way through this..." ha! "Leopard Lounge Not a Strip Club." Sounds like a place worth a visit!
Happy Valentine's right back atcha! Eros is such a dangerous/sneaky character.
Really enjoyed this - a great read!
Thank you Rebecca!
Love this, Alicia! It’s nice to know that people—men, in this case—are able to open that door and invite you in yet still be perfectly gracious if you chose to not walk through it.
Thank you so much, David! Yes, I feel fortunate and joyful to have had that experience. Lots of teddy bears at the end of the day. :)
I was going to mention Danler’s Sweetbitter but then you mentioned it at the end! Great book. I enjoyed your take on being a hostess in your twenties. It reminded me of myself. When I was 25 I briefly worked as a server at a busy pizza restaurant in San Francisco. I sucked at it. I once lost my dinner notepad. I hated working there. Line out the door the whole shift. Rude people. The pressure. Funny. They fired me. Creative people are strange. (Meaning me.) I remember thinking, How is it that I can write a goddamned novel, yet I can’t serve pizza? I later found out I wasn’t alone!
Michael Mohr
‘Sincere American Writing’
https://michaelmohr.substack.com/
You are most definitely not alone!! My god, serving is SO much harder than people realize. It's character building, really. I finally quit when they got short on female bussers to clean the bathrooms and asked me to help pitch in. I'd dressed up to socialize, not handle the trash!! (Nothing wrong with the latter... just please, those dresses were expensive ha.) Still have so much admiration for everyone in the service industry. (Also, the complexities of just carrying a damn tray?! I laughed the first time someone asked me if I could do it and then I tried it and was like, damn.)
Isn't Danler wonderful? Her prose reminds me a bit of James Salter actually in his "A Sport and a Pastime."
Thank you for the book recommendation!
I have been working as a server for much longer than I want to admit to. At this late date it works best when I can let go of the need to do a good job or even to make money to survive another day, and just try when possible to view each person at each table as another soul trying to navigate the road from birth to death, holding on to the shards of loves and dreams without being in too much pain or fear.
Okay: sometimes I can do this!
That's a beautiful way to view it! And a part of me is jealous you still have a front row seat to that humanity, David. You have all my respect. It's exhausting and almost spiritual work, really.
Thank you, I will try to remember this next time I feel frustrated or useless. But it’s true: often while waiting on someone their public persona dissolves and you can suddenly see their beating heart, their dreams, joys, losses, defeats and triumphs. Revealing and humbling.
I see all that in your writing above as well. Super lovely piece with a great warm updraft in the final lines. More, please!