I was having lunch near my office downtown. The restaurant was almost full, and I was by myself, so I took a seat at the bar.
Even though it's a place I don't go often, I knew most of the other people at the bar, common among us downtowners. And they all knew the bartender, Mark.
Mark was an octopus, serving food and drink customers at the bar, which equaled several tables full of people. Service was good, but secondary, because every one of us was enjoying ourselves. It helped that it was Friday.
At one point, I ended up talking just to Mark. He tends bar mostly during the day, and occasional weekend nights. A couple nights a week, he is a personal trainer. Mostly small talk.
I asked him about the restaurant's clientele. About 70/30 Memphians to out-of-towners. What days are better than others? Fridays are dynamite.
It struck me that I'd been in the restaurant only once before. Must have been at least six months before. Mark not only remembered my name, but he also remembered what I ate and what I drank.
Mark said tending bar is OK for making some extra dough, but, once he decided a bartender is what he is going to be, once he made the commitment, he became a lot better bartender. And tending bar became a lot better job.
Ain't it the truth?
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