When working in hospitality as a
young woman, there are a few things you learn very fast. When you smile and take the order of an overly expensive IPA that essentially tastes of bitter Vegemite from a man in his mid-thirties, do not give him your name when he asks. If you do this, he will make sure that every time you serve him or his friends a drink or clear away glasses from his table or bring his food out to him, he will stare at you (a better word for it would be ‘leering’) saying “thanks (insert name here)” acting as though you two have formed a very special connection.
balancing the gendered drink. Words by Madeline Jaye Osbourne He will presume his gratefulness permits either a discount on his next drink, or (obviously) your Snapchat. Then he will bumble out the door, making his way down to Hindley street to get plastered, home in bed with his face in a bucket by 11.30 p.m. (his metabolism is not what it used to be). When this unfortunate moment occurs and you scatter around trying to find an excuse not to give him your socials, he will always be in absolute disbelief that you don’t want to go out with him. I even had a guy assume I was married the other day, when I politely refused not to take up his offer on a drink after work. His face, absolutely gobsmacked by this rejection, turned into a calm recognition, causing him to say ‘ahh, you’re married then?’. The second thing you must not do is to NEVER put a straw in a man’s drink. Not only does this somehow destroy a man’s dignity, it emasculates him so much he goes down 10 pegs in the manly man’s hierarchy of proper manly etiquette. The other day for example, I had the audacity to pop a short straw into an elderly Irish man’s CC and dry. In utter disbelief, with his jaw wide open, he popped the straw out of his drink, and basically threw it at me, walking away and shaking his head. I learned the hard way, apparently, and smacked my own fingers as punishment. Now the two main points are done with, let us get on with the rest of this shit show. Here are a collection of things, that I have absolutely no control of, that I have been judged for: We will begin with a real winner, which is the classic ‘crack a smile love’, something all women have had the unfortunate experience of. I’m currently close to going full Joker mode with a smile from ear to ear if I hear it one more time. Honestly, though, if you were to try to smile through a six-hour shift (without a break), you would not only be getting the police called on you quick-smart, I’m sure it would also cause some sort of brain aneurysm. The next one is probably the most hurtful one, and 55
