Six months into being hired as a bartender, I was promoted to bar manager. Mainly because I was a great worker and I always helped cover shifts if someone called out. I was the first manager he hired, so it was a new role for both of us. I thought it would be great for my resume and that I would really like it.
My job entailed planning events, making the advertisements, buying decorations, sourcing the live music, maintaining the bar, doing liquor orders, drink specials, food specials, interviews, training, scheduling for the front of house staff, and covering bartending shifts if no one else could. I ended up taking a huge pay cut because I lost all my tip money. And while some things I did were enjoyable, the amount of work my boss gave me was overbearing. The worst part was, I was still covering bartender shifts at least once or twice a week on average, on top of all the manager work. And as a manager, I was not allowed to collect tips.
There were ups and downs, but the past two months drove me crazy. I worked more overtime in these two months than all the overtime I’ve worked my entire bartending career combined. So many people called out of their shifts because they realized the of the lack of penalty of calling out, and I was a guaranteed scape goat for shift coverage. I was definitely being taken advantage of. Over this period of time, I developed stressed induced TMJ. I’m still struggling with it.
A couple weeks ago, I had to have a staff meeting, addressing new pricing and riding all of my bartenders’ asses about covering shifts and making sure every one picked up a shift over the event weekends. A week later, my boss decided to do two things. First, he changed his mind about changing the prices the day the price changes were supposed to go into affect. And second, he told me to get rid of half the event shifts and only have one bartender on instead of two, because he “didn’t know why” he had me schedule two when it’s not supposed to be busy. I had to relay the news to the staff it it made me seem incompetent.
And then this past week after Easter, I was sick. The two bartenders on schedule do not know how to close out the register report, nor have a key to the building. When this happens, either the boss or I usually come in to open, then return in the evening to close. I told him I was sick and asked him to open, and if need be I could close. I didn’t mind since I live down the street, and there would be no customers. But when I arrived, the boss was still there. Asked me how I was feeling, to which I replied, “You know. Shitty, because I’m sick,” but he still had me close. Even though he was just there. Chillin’.
That’s when I knew I had to step down.
Honestly, it was rejuvenating to stand up for myself. My boss was surprisingly very understanding, but was sad that the stress got to me. Very bittersweet because I do care for my boss and the business. But through this experience, I’ve learned a lot of practical things, but also my own personal boundaries with my relationship with my job.