Over My Head

Ok, so after a few weeks since my last one, last night I had my first trial shift at a bar in Bastille and I only really have one way of wrapping it up: It was one of the most nervewrecking things I have done in a long time. Now as some people who know me know, I have been unemployed for quite a while and the problem with this is that if you let it get to you, it can begin to ruin your confidence in your ability to get another job. I'm not necessarily at that point yet, but here, in Paris, I'm begining to doubt my chances.

So, what happened last night was I'd been called to have a trial at a bar, south east of where I'm currently living, and, for the last week or so, the knowledge of it's approach had been eating away at my mind. I was nervous, as evryone is when approaching a new job, but I probably was a little more than usual and this was largely due to the fact that this bar was different compared to any other bar I'd worked in before, i.e. no one could speak English. This is increadibly daunting when your knowledge of French is basically limited to "puis je avoir une biere, s'il tu plait" or "je suis ici pour un essai" or "ou est le cuisiner" (I will probably be promptly informed by my girlfriend, at some point, that one of these is incorrect*). Another good line to try is "s'il tu plait ma charie, tombe la chemise" (for the Art vs Science fans out there), but it probaby wasn't going to help my situation.

I arrived at the bar for my trial just before 6pm, when it was due to start, and was immediately taken by the manager to where the staff keep their bags and jackets while on duty. He was one of the only staff members who could speak English. I was then shown up to the bar and introduced to the manager I would be working with for the trial and, embarrasingly enough, I forgot his name immediately as it was heavily French and tough to pronouce. That was it... No one showed me how to use the till, what their base spirits where, what a standard measure of alcohol was in Paris (40ml I now know), how to mix the cocktails, what post-mixes there were on the gun or what time my shift would even end (4am I would later find out). As a result, I had to ask someone whenever I needed to know something, which was all the time as nobody showed me how the bar runs. Now I figured out how to use the till after asking someone "comment tu utilise 'the till'" (in hindsight, I now realise "caisse" is what I probably what should have used for "till"), and I figured out the base spirits simply by looking at what generic slop was held on the speed-rail, and I learnt that the guy who showed me how to use the till also spoke enough English to help me if I needed, but this barely got me by. After serving a few customers, I learned that my French was barely good enough to understand people across the bar, over the loud music. I knew enough to get the gist of their order, but if they wanted something specific, they'd have to slow down and repeat themselves until they gave up and tried English instead. This is quite demoralising when you're trying to do a good job at bartending.

With my confidence a little hurt, I would, at times, set about making a bunch of cocktails that a customer had ordered, which was easy enough if it was a cocktail I already knew, like a mojito, but when it was mostly something I'd never heard of, I had to wing it by looking at the ingredients on the menu. This is a pretty tough way to learn when you find out that they "free-pour" the spirits as well, and what would happen is I'd end up giving them a cocktail that is acceptable but mainly to really drunk people or if you were at a house party that was experimenting with a cocktail theme. Worst of all, it was dificult to ask for help when all the other bartenders are busy, and when you do manage to ask one where the "canne de sucre" is, you've let time slip by while some costomer is staring at you like "when am I gonna get served?" or "I ordered like five minutes ago and you're asking for help now?"

To wrap things up, I knew it was going to be a tough shift as the only bars where you can expect the staff, and the majority of the customers, to speak English are Irish or expat bars and unfortunately this wasn't one of them. I thought it might be a good opportunity to practice my French but I began to realise, as the bar gradually got busier, I just wasn't quite up to the level required. I was just too slow in understanding and my vocabulary too small. It wasn't the language barrier, however, that caused me to swallow my pride and do something I wouldn't normally have done in the end, it was more that as new staff joined the shift, no one spoke to me, or even tried to make me feel welcome. I felt alienated and just kind of moped around the bar looking for something to do whenever there was a pause in serving. What I ended up doing, after only an hour and a half of the trial had passed, I quit. It was tough for me to admit that I was simply  over my head and the place just didn't make me feel welcome. It was almost difficult to explain to the manager that I didn't feel confident enough to work there as he almost didn't understand me. It's a shame really, as I've racked up enough experience in busy bars in London and Australia to know that if you're shown what to do at the beginning of a shift, you'll get by. But even though my being totally overwhelmed wasn't entirely my fault, it was a little as I am just not quite French enough to understand what the hell is going on. Now it's back to the drawing board, or rather, the painsaking task of job hunting.

* Turns out I was right, but rather than correct it, I added this footnote instead to prove a point.