Opinion: Bartenders like me offer emotional support to so many. The pandemic took that away. – The San Diego Union-Tribune

Doughty is a part-time bartender at Realm of the 52 Remedies and a marketing manager at Preiss Imports and lives in North Park.

There is an old joke with bartenders, What is worse than having no one at your bar? Having one person at your bar.

Now that I havent bartended regularly in over a year, having only one person in the bar would be categorized as a type of unavoidable hell. There was no way anyone couldve seen their lives upended by a virus, nor the ineptitude of a government that led to the strangulation of the local bar and restaurant industry. It is strange to watch streams of cash flow to corporations and political parties that have had your best interests lost on politicians laundry list of personal vendettas and selfish motivations. Regardless of the lack of support from federal and state governments, our local bartenders have been sidelined and forced to recommit their lives to other industries or side hustles that previously served us as passions rather than lifelines. I can only imagine that many of my regulars at Hundred Proof (R.I.P.) and Realm of the 52 Remedies have coped similarly.

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The American bar has been an emotional safety net for its patrons and a financial boost to its employees throughout its existence. When I was laid off from my position as a human resources administrator in 2018, I thought my world had crashed around me. I made a decision to become a doorman at a bar in order to bring in any amount of cash ASAP. Until 2020, this industry gave me more than financial support: I gained friends and emotional connections with the regulars. I craved human connection after being labeled disposable. Bootlegger Tiki in Palm Springs adopted me and corrupted me into a pirate. The people there taught me how to make friends through hard work and growing a thick skin. That family gave me the confidence to move back to San Diego and work for Trust Restaurant Group and Tahona and now Realm of the 52 Remedies. I wouldve never come back to San Diego otherwise.

On the most basic, personal level, the a therapist without the degree colloquialism has been well earned from the moment the first bar was created. Bartenders at your neighborhood bar invest themselves in the lives of their patrons. Its an unavoidable part of the job. Compassion at the most basic levels draws a person into the successes and/or sorrows of most patrons nightly. At this point, I never thought I would miss calling out first dates with co-workers old fashioneds and mules every time the Toyota Camry of drink orders or stories about your kids basketball games, or serving as the intermediary for slobbery political spats. I took these moments or problems for granted.

The pandemic took that away. All of it. The connection to the community has been relegated to Facebook posts and cringey online happy hours. The creativity I felt I could exercise in drinks and conversations are filtered by horrific Instagram posts by bartenders and political correctness. The bar was a bastion of freedom regarding most subjects. A bartender traffics in the support of human existence every day, positive or negative. At some point in their careers, bartenders have cared for their customers on a personal level, for one-eighth the price of a professional therapist. Right now, many Americans have been spectators to closings of many of their hangouts, which served as a personal theater for personal connections.

Since the pandemic, I have picked up a marketing manager position with Preiss Imports in Ramona. The bars I worked at gave me the knowledge to convince a family to trust me enough to write freely about their products (and fully stocked my home bar). Who wouldve thought a bar setting could make you informed about spirits and their uses?

I have prevailed financially throughout this mess but have returned to work at Realm of the 52 Remedies. I miss the small pains of dirty glassware and cutting someone off too much. I miss the feelings of connection I made with the Taquinos at brunch at Hundred Proof or talking cocktails with Phil at Realm or Reginas and Denzels giant laughs. The regulars I had become accustomed to became ingrained in my social biome. They have served as my therapists too, I suppose.

With all this gloom, I still am positive about the future. Already people have shown support in their local watering holes. All we ask as bartenders is that you treat our bartop like your own home and give us consistency.

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Opinion: Bartenders like me offer emotional support to so many. The pandemic took that away. - The San Diego Union-Tribune