A night at the harbour bar
This is a work of fiction. Everything is made up except the parts that matter. Have fun!
“Veronica! Go to your home, dear. It is already twenty minutes past your shift.” I see her smiling, as if to remind me of her previous answer. She already said that she will stay a bit longer to help me wrap up the party. What she does not realise is that this will go on for at least another hour. I hope she is up for it. At any rate, I appreciate her camaraderie. Let her do as she wishes.
My colleagues are a hard-working bunch. I would run through a brick wall to defend them. Our bonds are strong and we show solidarity towards each other. Though this is not how they were introduced to me by the director. His words were unflattering. “They put in the minimum amount of effort and never waste an opportunity to fool around. Their heart is not into it”, he remarked. I could sense a racist undertone, as he did not say the same thing for the locals who are employed in the other departments of the hotel. How likely is it that all the lazy ones ended up working in the same place and are all of different nationalities?
People will change their behaviour based on their social milieu. I have noticed this phenomenon everywhere I have been, from school, to extracurricular activities, and the various jobs I have done. It is up to the leading figures to instil a culture of excellence which, to me, goes hand-in-hand with being generous and a team player: be fair to everyone, remember that you are not above the rules, and let your deeds set the standard. I never tell anyone what the desired level of performance is. Instead, I am the living embodiment of it. When I am working, I do not try to cheat or pretend that I am trying. I do everything properly, to the best of my abilities. And when it is time for a break, I relax, satisfied with the effort I am putting in.
I am the head bartender. This is a seaside hotel by the harbour. It hosts thousands of tourists throughout the season. It has three pools, two restaurants, a beach bar, a pool bar, and a terrace bar, which is this place I manage and where most of the alcohol is sold. I have worked at this establishment in years prior, though I used to do only morning shifts. I was thus eased into the role, learning all the requisite skills without assuming too much responsibility too quickly.
I am held accountable for everything that happens to the terrace bar. It only operates in the evenings. We do not prepare milkshakes here, nor do we have the brassware to brew traditional style coffee the way they do down at the pool. Guests are expected to be well dressed and to enjoy their night as they listen to our live music. The animators who put up the show are a wonderful group of talented people from around the world. French, Brazilian, Angolan, Bulgarian… They consist of many nationalities and I have learnt many things from them. Capoeira looks cool, for example, but I will need a community around it to appreciate its profundity. Doing it on my own will only be a simulacrum of the real thing.
My duty is to make sure that everything is in order here. I am entrusted with the keys, control the cashier and report to the accounting department, fill in the forms for the requisition of supplies, and make sure everybody fulfils their duties while also enjoying equal rights. I coordinate with my colleagues to keep the fridges full, ensure that we have clean glasses at all times, maintain tidiness behind the bar, and serve drinks. Because of all these, I am the first to come, last to go. And I take my role seriously.
This has been an extra long day. There was a wedding with over two thousand guests. Now we are at the tail end of the wedding party. On paper, they should have left an hour ago. But here we are, ready to prepare more drinks. My experience tells me that we will stay open at least until 3 AM, two hours more than our usual shift. Papers only matter when you are in a position of strength. Ordinary workers either accept the working conditions as those arise or risk being dismissed at the earliest opportunity. We are expendable. There is always someone ready to take the job. Maybe the more competent labourers are harder to replace, though the dynamic is the same for everybody.
My shift normally starts at 4 PM and ends at 1 AM, though today I am on a double shift. I arrived at nine in the morning to set up the tables with the champagne and then to serve the drinks. The wedding ceremony was at noon. Time flies when you are having a good time. It is not busy right now. I have prepared only a couple of cocktails in the past hour and Veronica served one table. The guests are tired and worn down by the countless beverages they have had. I know I can handle it on my own from now on. It was half past eight when I left my apartment. I do not feel tired because of all the adrenaline. Though I know I am not unbreakable. All this work does take a toll on me. I will need to rest as much as possible until my next shift which, thankfully, is back to my usual afternoon schedule.
Here is this girl again… Now she has brought the groom along with her. These people do not know when to quit. “The lady asked you for a drink and you refused to serve her. Why’s that, son?” Such are his words as he struggles to maintain his balance. “Your friend is clearly pissed, my man, and I will not poison her with any more piña colada. She should go to bed now. Just look at her and show responsibility!” I appeal to his common sense. That girl has had about half a bottle of rum, plus the extras, and she clearly cannot tolerate any more of it.
I get these encounters from time to time. People may be aware of what they ask, but they do not necessarily have the clarity to discern what they need. This is one of those cases where the person’s desire runs counter to their immediate wellness. I have witnessed a man die from liver failure and I will not let that happen on my watch. This woman is at risk of serious damage if she continues with such unbridled habits.
Alcohol consumption is deeply ingrained in our culture as a form of socialisation. A couple of drinks can loosen you up and make you enjoy the company better. This is probably because it lowers your self awareness and thus focuses your mind on the relatively fewer functions you can still do well. The less we think about our self in a social setting, the more easygoing we tend to be. But there is a fine line between relaxing a person’s social reflexes and giving them the tools to forgo control of themselves. The latter is usually what happens in these situations as people do not know when to stop. If your friends are still drinking, you do it too. The cycle invigorates itself. Some will be more talkative while intoxicated but otherwise will not become an immediate threat to anyone but themselves. Whereas those who are more assertive may get dangerous. It is such a tricky situation to be in. Thankfully, we have had no instance of violence at the party. They are just too drunk to string together more than a few coherent thoughts.
It seems Veronica is not the only one around. I guess my stubbornness is contagious… “Hey, Andy! You are still around, big guy? I told you to go home already. I can tell you are knackered.” This is a special event. My colleagues have all shown extraordinary commitment even though it was not asked of them to do more than usual. I appreciate it. “Come here, mate”, I urge him. “Is there anyone you fancy at the party? I will call them here.” I gently turn his attention towards the animation crew. He smiles and is blushing. Here is this strong man with an innocent heart. Such an endearing moment! “Fine, I am teasing you”, I reassure him as I pat his back. “You can leave now. I will take care of the rest. Remember to take it easy. No problem; no stress!” I take out a bottle of water from the fridge and pass it to him. “Be careful and leave some for the rest of us, okay?”
The animators are packing up. They will be gone in ten minutes or so. I see Veronica just standing there, waiting to take an order. I think it is over now. I wave at her. She notices me and walks towards me. “Since you are not leaving on your own, I will have to figure out an alternative. We will shut down everything together. What do you think?” She is quick to respond with a reassuring “okay”. We count the number of guests and take out as many water bottles from the fringe. Then I make the announcement. “We are closing shop folks. There is a bottle of water for each of you. All numbers win!”
Veronica helps me tidy up the place and pull down the shutters. “Thank you! I respect your ethos. Good night and see you tomorrow”, I tell her. “Bye”, she says and leaves. Her room is ten minutes on foot from here. My relationship with all my colleagues is friendly yet clearly professional. I never ask anything about their private affairs and know very little about them in general. In return, they know nothing about my background and life outside of the current setting. This is how I prefer it. Having done seasonal jobs before, I am aware that we all come and go. The ones here are immigrants like myself. I will probably not see them again once the season is over. I thus prefer not to grow attached to anyone because it will hurt me when our paths diverge.
I recall how I befriended a tourist girl when I was twelve. Tania was her name. Our friendship lasted a grand total of four days, though it felt like we had known each other for an eternity. We were just playing around and talking. “I don’t speak England very best”, was among the first things I told her, and then laughed out loud. She smiled back, so I guess she found it charming. Formulaic pickup lines are either a recipe for disaster or the conduit to a superficial affair. You have to be your true self and behave casually. It also helps you not to stereotype people and think they must respond in this or that standard way. Let yourself be surprised. These are insights I have developed over time. Back then I was just a kid with a childish demeanour—which was fantastic!
There was this coin-op machine with a Pacman game installed. Tania would consistently beat my high score. My excuse was that the game is punishing me for giving it smaller coins. “This Pacman dude has taken all my money”, I exclaimed. “And I suspect he likes you more!” Again, I was being facetious. Only one type of coin could operate the machine. The day she left with her parents we both cried. It taught me how we can be close to someone when we are authentic. We do not need to know them for years. This is why I am reluctant to have a repeat scenario with any of the people I meet here. They will leave in a few weeks. I am sure they are fine and we would have a good time together, but I am not willing to suffer again. Maybe one day I will realise my folly and internalise the notion that nothing lasts forever, anyway. It is not about the duration, but the quality. I might grow to appreciate things while they are, for as long as they occur. But I am not there yet. I still labour under the illusion that I will build connections that last a lifetime and must thus avoid the ephemeral ones.
There is a part of me that knows this is a mistake. I do not regret the time I spent with Tania. The fact it was a brief encounter is irrelevant. Perhaps it was even better this way. Though I cannot make a case for the counterfactual. It does not matter if we know something at the rational level. I can recite all the sound advice I have heard, but it has no consequence in my life if I do not implement it. It is not our claims that matter, but our actions. This is how you understand a person: check their behaviour. There is a hard-to-bridge chasm between theory and practice. We have to apply whatever precepts continuously to eventually embed them in our conduct. I can, for example, have a friendly chat with Veronica. It is easy to do and there are plenty of opportunities each day. Though I prefer to keep it professional, perhaps as an excuse to cling to my old ways. Undoing established routines takes time and requires courage; courage you must muster to step out of your comfort zone. Only then will you render yourself available to new opportunities. This might be the default outlook of my self in his thirties if I start putting in the effort. But I am not there yet.
Most of the guests are heading to their rooms. Everything went smoothly today. It is a major achievement, though we are not going to see any extra money at the end of the month. The tips are too few to matter. They are about the same as usual. The executives will receive a handsome bonus for the wedding. It is always the same and I know it is not fair. Sure, they did their part but everything here would easily fall apart if all of us were indeed fooling around. It is well past my shift yet I am not done here. I do it because this is how things should be done. Nobody will reward me though. Integrity is about your quality, not your performance in light of certain incentives. I still have to compile the receipts for the accountants. Then I must write the requisition and file it at the storehouse. It is mind-boggling how much booze we sold. Tomorrow will be more of the same.
I do this job to save money for my studies. I pay all the tuition and living expenses out of my pocket. My parents cannot afford to help me. When the school year starts in October, I will be doing other jobs. The specifics vary, though the everyday interactions with people are broadly similar. I am in good terms with everyone. There have been cases where some middle manager with an inflated ego thought too highly of their role, though I have learnt to mind my business. I do not want to fix anyone and am committed to my goal. I wish to get my degree and then move on to the next phase in my life. I have no clear plan of what that eventuality will look like, though I imagine it will be unlike the current one.
There are people who have their aspirations sorted out from an early age and do not deviate from them. Good for them, I guess. I remember many of my classmates in secondary education already knowing what they wanted to become as adults. How could they have figured it all out? Was it by their own volition or were they conforming with their parents’ wishes? Maybe my parents did try to nudge me towards a certain direction, but I was too unruly to pay attention. I had to do things my own way, learn from my mistakes, and mature accordingly. What matters is the kind of person you become, not how you started. If you are honest with yourself, are a dependable teammate, and remain down to earth, then you are fine in my view. But if you are some obnoxious egoist who thinks that an academic title or a high social standing makes you special, then I have no respect for you. Sod off!
I do not feel sleepy. I will take a walk by the coast and then head to my friend George’s place to salute him. He runs a family business by the seaside. It is a small club that plays music until the early morning hours. I expect to find him there. But I will savour this moment first. I always take off my shoes when I walk along the beach. The sense of the waves touching my feet engenders in me a uniquely relaxing feeling. It puts me in a contemplative mode. The sea holds the potential for a wide range of experiences. When it is calm, you feel safe. When it is stormy, it reminds you of its latent dangers and of your powerlessness in the face of cosmic processes. At all times, it triggers in you a sense of wonder. How can this all be? Can we learn anything by shifting our attention away from the trivialities of our quotidian affairs towards the nature all around and within us? What will happen to our attitude if we manage to live in accordance with our natural rhythms? I have no answers. All I can do is try and figure something out after decades of commitment.
Humans have sailed the high seas for millennia. Some did it out of necessity. Others out of greed or in pursuit of glory. And others still with an inkling of hope that they would finally discover that which eluded their conscience. There is something that compels us all into action. Such is the constant of our experience. How we rationalise it or explain it as part of our larger lifeworld is another matter altogether. We do have a narrative about it or, at least, a rudimentary way of framing it. Sometimes, we do not change it and let it condition our future decisions. But there are moments when we see through the veil to recognise that there is scope for your remaking, at which point you venture off on the adventure of becoming what effectively is another person. Like the waves that come in contact with my feet, each expression will be different, each case will have a unique constitution in how its factors are arranged, and every one can mean something special. Thinking back to Tania and the potential of liking or loving someone, moments are all we ever get. The sooner we learn to have presence in our present, the lighter our life will be.
Buffalo soldier is playing in the distance. George is a force to be reckoned with. “Hey, big bad wolf! I love the moustache you are rocking.” I say loudly as I approach him by the DJ set. I have known George for a couple of years. We call each other “the mafia lord”. This is a joke that came about as we were remarking that we could be specialising in another profession instead of tourism. “For an intelligent guy like you to be working here, it means you are hiding some lucrative business you do at the docks”, he told me once while smiling through that thick facial hair of his. “I shall funnel the proceeds through this morally unimpeachable establishment of yours”, I added.
With George you have to always assume he is high on some of that good lettuce. Otherwise, he must have fell in the pot with the magic sauce when he was a baby, like Obelix. I never saw him with a frown on his face. Nor have I ever met another person with such a seemingly bottomless enthusiasm for what he enjoys. “You are still awake, you little bastard? Did some mermaid pull you out of your slumber?” I laugh without giving him an answer. I then explain how I am just passing by, but will not be staying for a drink. He inquires in a more serious voice about my day. I give him a thumbnail sketch of it. “Now the real work starts at the docks”, I say in jest and wave him goodbye.
There is no substitute for the experiences you gather through everyday interactions with people. You become acquainted with a diversity of personalities, tastes, and perspectives. This is what makes somebody street smart as opposed to book smart. Ideally, we need both to have a rounded appreciation of the finer points. I believe that I would not pay as much attention to the plurality of our condition if I was to only read about it. When I now think of the differences between us as well as our shared nature, I bring to mind the image of George, Tania, Andy, and Veronica. These are instantiations of a common thread that runs through all of us. I can identify what is constant in the multitude of our interactions, without discounting the elements of individuation therein. I cannot connect emotionally with a book and make jokes with it. There is no hugging or kissing it and feeling your emotions reciprocated. Will I ever stand up for it the way I would for my colleagues? Books will provide you with knowledge that is decoupled from any given person or, at best, introduce you to an idol that you piece together in a controlled fashion.
People here do not believe that I am a “real introvert” because they witness how eloquent and relaxed I am when around people. I do not seek to be with others: I enjoy my time alone, though I also have no problem in the company of someone. What they do not realise is that an introverted person is not necessarily shy. Nor is this personality trait a prerequisite for social anxiety. We feel awkward when we are forced to do something we do not like. We also are uncomfortable when we keep pretending to be someone we are not. I have met many an extrovert who are shy and who struggle to keep a conversation going. Their mistake is to play a script in their head that consists of certain rehearsed steps and which must meet concrete performance targets to qualify as a success. The notion of it being a performance is what undermines their efforts. You do not have to impress the person you fancy with some spectacular demonstration of your skills. Imagine bumping into someone and within the first few sentences you flex about the long articles you write. It feels overdone and insecure. Moreover, it shows you are not focused on the moment and the person in front of you but are too obsessed with yourself.
The understated qualities you have are reserved for those who are interested enough to discover them. Advertising them on your forehead will only make you look silly. The kind of person who is invested in learning more about you is the one you ultimately want to be with long-term. Show the same towards them and go with the flow. If you are uncertain that your truthfulness is not yielding results, then ask whether you will be better off in an alternative scenario. I can only imagine that drunken girl from earlier, who was asking for something that she would deeply regret afterwards. Show faith in the world by not making certain wants unconditional. There are opportunities for fulfilment outside such boundaries. Developing tunnel vision will only make you oblivious to them.
There is something to learn from the little things. I notice Veronica’s patience and kindness. Nothing seems to upset her. I want to be like that myself. Andy’s sheer strength inspires me to stay fit. He never misses a day of training. I wish to do the same. While George’s charisma tells me to not take myself too seriously. Being street smart makes you less prone to project your biases unto others. You will have a fairly accurate frame of reference to assess when something is too far-fetched. Whereas a virtual view of people can skew your expectations accordingly. You might think in terms of stereotypes, like the tired old meme “all men/women are the same”. They are not and this kind of mindset is not helping you deal with the peculiarities of real people. Spend some time out there. Suspend judgement and give others a fair chance. Then you will believe in the results.
Assuming a persona is the worst thing you can do to yourself. Imagine someone falls in love with what you are showing. What do you do next? Do you keep the charade indefinitely? You will probably be exposed sooner or later. Or do you reveal your true colours, which will most probably make the other person feel deceived and ensnared? There is this inane concept among some of the more insecure guys I have met, which prescribes how they should be a “real man” who is strong above all else, keeps his girlfriend/wife at bay by being dominant, and stuff like that. They may include some common sense points, like being responsible, but there is nothing inherently gendered about those—are there no responsible women, for instance? I then think of George and his family of six to quickly realise how preposterous all this role-playing is. George is neither strong nor domineering. He is as sweet as it gets. What I think his wife Yolanda likes about him is the same quality a friend is drawn to: his authenticity and all that is predicated on it.
A friend and a romantic partner are fundamentally the same in this regard. You do not befriend others through conquest. Using brute force will only yield servants or accomplices to some unscrupulous cause, but none of those will care about you as a person. You as a conqueror will remain deeply isolated while being in the midst of your flunkies. This shall be your punishment. Why would you then get a partner that way? And why would you ever want to be a tyrant towards someone you should be loving and receiving love from? It is fine to be indomitable and have the stamina to operate as a one-man-army, though what matters the most is the person you are. Show respect and you will have it reciprocated in spades. Be a bully and you shall always suffer profoundly as a victim of the deep-seated insecurity you never chose to confront. Make no mistake: these are gender-agnostic magnitudes. Let not the appearance of success deceive you. Money or fame are no substitute for peace and the stability it brings.
I guess I am on a roll now. Maybe they should be doing more of those weddings! I am not far from my apartment. This introspection has been benign. I think it paves the way for encounters that require such preparatory work. It all boils down to the “no problem; no stress” outlook I told Andy. There may not be literal mermaids out there, though those mythical creatures are our way of recognising the mysteries this world has in store for us. We cannot pretend to know everything and, above all, we must not assume that our desires, the way we can formulate them in present time, are necessarily the only ones that can yield us what we need. These are my thoughts as I feel the breeze on this peaceful night. The sea is never the same. Even if you have visited every shore, there is always something new to be learnt; something awesome to be experienced; something special to be acquired and something, still, to be left to its own fate. There may come a day, friend, when you meet someone your dreams have not anticipated.