So I have been dropping by a few bars lately to either celebrate someone’s new job or lament the addition of one more friend to the rolls of the unemployed or downtrodden. And then there are my own issues I need to drown these days, but that is a column for another time.



Anyway, I was chatting with a bartender in South Tacoma last week about the role a bartender has in the community. Sure, they sell us drinks and shovel peanuts and pretzels down our throats to make sure we buy more of their brews, but they do more than that.

I have written about the role of taverns in American society, how taverns and ale houses helped pave the way for democracy for fueling the thoughts of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness those many years ago. But that is a tale where the tavern was simply the facility the founding fathers used to form their thoughts. It was the social hall of the 17th century, the MySpace.com of the Age of Enlightenment, if you will. Very little of that work toward the formation of this nation has to do with the bartenders who waited tables at those liberty taverns or the beer they served between talks of revolution and individual rights. Ben Franklin and Sam Adams were brewers, of course, but there is no historical record to suggest that they demanded the founding fathers serve up their brews at the cost of the local concoction at hand.



But bartenders play a vital role in the American psyche that often goes underappreciated. Until now, that is. Yes, I’m talking about the role bartenders play in the delicate dance of therapist, priest or nonjudgmental friend. They listen to our crap when no one else will. They have to; it is part of their job. And here are some of their thoughts on the matter. I have tried to mask their identities as a way to shelter their “clients” through the Bartender-Patient Code of Confidentiality of 1978.



“I personally do not posses the talent or curse of tolerating other people’s drama,” one particularly well-known bartender said. “I try to steer them away from the ‘poor me,’ which is a lot of the times well justified. I try to get people to focus on the positive. Often times I do this by listening at first and then saying something ... well, nice, even flattering, yet honest. ... I then smile and find something productive to do. This gives ‘Joe’ the opportunity to reflect upon what I have said and usually, combined with the ‘magic potion,’ I usually see them start to lighten up. I mean the reality of life is that it isn’t always roses. Usually always, when the trials and tribulations come to some sort of resolve, it is easier to look back and realize what feels like a knothole is really a keyhole. There are always exceptions and even quite often. I have gotten the opportunity to meet so many amazing Tacoma people that I am often really flattered that they would be open enough and trusting enough to open up to me and discuss the issues that they are having. I do honor and listen. Real stuff is real; drama shit is drama. Bartending is the business of people relations ... .  I love it — almost all of it.”



One bartender in one of Olympia’s great hole-in-the-wall taverns gave a chuckle when I bellied up to the bar and pitched him the story idea I wanted to talk to him about.

“Man, you are going to give away all of our secrets,” he said as he stacked steaming glasses from the washer onto a shelf behind him. “I’ve been doing this a long time, man. Everyone who walks through that door has a story they want to tell someone. I often just happen to be the one available to listen.”



He went on to say that being a bartender, in an odd sort of way, is like being a stripper. It is all in the mind of the patron. Bartenders, like strippers, are friendly to a lot of people, but they aren’t really friends with many people. Nods of acknowledgment and quick jokes go a long way. Smiles and an occasional laugh or sign help out as well. Bartenders aren’t acting as if they actually care about the problems. They often actually do care. But they can’t care about everyone all the time or get too close to the problem. There are professional lines bartenders don’t cross. They rarely go out with bar patrons, for example. Flirty banter is one thing — Those get tips and repeat business, he said. Booty call after closing time is quite another.



“You are just asking for trouble when you start doing that,” he said.