It can be a bit of a thorny subject, talking about staff at a venue. Very delicate thing to tread the line between fair criticism and being a bit of an entitled Karen, bitching about the servants. It can feel like you’re discussing the merits and failures of people as if they were chattels, imposing your own worldview or standards on other humans. That said, hospitality is a business of murky borders between the personal and the professional – it’s the people in it that make it go. If you like a hospo business, then you like its people, because they are the engine that makes it run. Contrariwise, a business full of bad people will repel you just as surely as food poisoning. Sure, you go for the coffee, the food, the booze, but you wouldn’t keep going back if the person who served you openly told you they hated you, or why they think Hitler was right.*
*I mean, I’d hope you wouldn’t go back
I’ve said before that I love when you can see hospo staff are having a good time at work. Flirting, laughing and chatting with punters or each other. Flourishing. Happy in their environment. It shows that it is a good place to be, on either side of the bar, and a good indicator that this is a place where a punter will feel comfortable, enjoy themselves, have a good time. This is literally the purpose of hospitality, and can’t truly be achieved under other, more draconian conditions. At least, not for me – there are those for whom obsequy and a regimental approach are major selling points. Of course, the crucial element is that the staff are working. I have noticed a tendency of late, in my own subjective experience, towards a more… shall we say relaxed attitude to customer service. Staff leaning around chatting to their mates while ignoring punters, not writing down and subsequently cocking up orders and getting upset at you for it, acting put-upon to bring a drink or a plate or a napkin. Making out like they’re doing you a favour by doing their job. This isn’t great.
I love the freedom that hospitality staff can enjoy in this country. If American media has made one thing clear to me, it’s that the tipping system of indentured servitude is hell on earth. Here, at least, hospo crew have rights and decent wages, freedom to tell someone off, or deny service if they get out of hand. They aren’t required to be fearful and sycophantic which is, frankly, the bare minimum criteria a workplace should fulfil. I don’t want to see any sort of handbook management style – something that dictates everything from what to wear and how to wear it, how to act, how to do every single little thing, micromanaging staff down to the tiniest detail. No, I just want to see people who care about doing a good job, whatever it is, and doing it in their own idiosyncratic way. A place that can nail that employee dynamic is a wonderful thing.
I understand that it is difficult – not everyone cares about what they do, especially in hospo. It is seen by many as a transitionary field – something you get into while you’re studying. Something to do to make a little more cash to make ends meet. Placeholder work while you figure out what you really want to do with your life. And it is sadly looked down on by some sections of society as not being a ‘real job’. For these reasons, it can be hard to find people who really care about doing a good job. You can’t make people take personal pride in their work, I guess. You can only put a thrill of reward or a fear of punishment in them and let their own personalities dictate their attitudes.
And for all that, there is no one version of a ‘good’ employee. They could be a giant nerd who tries to learn everything there is to learn about their field and pass that enthusiasm and knowledge along to the punter. They could be a quick, quiet, efficient type that gets the job done. They could be an ebullient, joyful person who serves quite slowly, but is lovely enough that you don’t mind. They could be a gregarious type who lets a yarn get in the way of their efficiency but is entertaining enough that you really don’t mind. There’s a million different ways to be the kind of bartender/barista/waiter that makes people come back time and again. Similarly, you can also ruin the experience of a night out for someone with your shitty attitude in myriad ways.
Perhaps I was spoiled. We were once described as being like the Smurf Village. Everyone with their own unique sort of personality and skillset, effectively chipping away at the mountain of tasks omnipresent in any busy hospo workplace. Minimal managemental oversight. Just beavering away until the day was done and we could sit down for a few beers and the quiz from the paper. Perhaps I am being a bit precious, and I should just let people be. But hospitality means something to me: it’s not just some bit of minor and meaningless diversion. I truly value the space it holds for me to collect myself during the day, as well as the meeting place it provides for new people and ideas, for joy and shared experience. So call me Karen if you must, but hospitality lives and dies on its people. At least I’m not going to say “hey honey, you should smile more. You’d get more tips if you smiled more.” <shudder> First against the wall.
Exit Pursued by a Beer 