Taking a week off the streets of New York

Back in the day, when the backs of my ears were still wet and I thought life was spread out before me like some sort of birthday cake waiting to be wished upon, my dad told me he wouldn't pay for me to go to college, but he would pay for me to go to bartending school.

At least bartenders can find work that pays is the way he looked at it.

Bartending? That sounded great. You've got the keys to the kingdom if you are a bartender, behind the stick, master of your domain. And the flexible hours fit the night owl in me.

But, bartending? Frantic nights, blaring music, no insurance, counting on others to put money (good when it comes, nonexistent when it doesn't) in your pocket. Come on. That's not the smart career choice.

So I got a college degree and a corporate job.

Last week, I took time off from my wanderings and this blog (didja miss me?) to go bartending school. My dad's offer had expired, so I ponied up the $700 and went for it.

It was a blast. Best vacation ever.

And now, I am a certified mixologist. That's right. I aced the test AND put 22 proportionally correct drinks on the bar in 5 minutes -- which means I know how to keep glass out of your glass, a glass in your hand and I'm carrying the recipes for 200+ drinks around in my head.

What I'm not yet is a bartender. That requires a bar to tend and it will come. Right this second I have something in common with every bar owner and bar manager in New York City. We are all looking for "New York Experience." They want it wrapped in a bartender and I want it in this mixologist. If you have a lead on a gig, let me know. If you don't, get yourself a beer and hang around. I tell you about the job search.


And, I'll keep you posted as to where I work so when you come to the city you can stop by and say hi.