then, now
Then, I spent most of my twenties working in hospitality. We’d finish our shifts and go to the kind of places that are open after everywhere else is closed.
Not always the kind of places you’d be thrilled to be referred to as a ‘regular’ but definitely places where you’d want to be known as ‘industry’ in order to get your discount obviously. Everyone else’s nights would be coming to an end but for me and all the other bartenders who had just rocked up, the night had just begun, so we’d drink a lot in a short window of time. Skip to the end and I’d be crying in a kebab shop, smoking cigarettes, or falling out of a taxi.
I’d tell myself that was the last time I went out after a shift. It’s too late! And realistically I don’t have those kinds of hours to lose when I really do need sleep. So I wouldn’t for a while, but one wrong bad interaction with a customer and I’d find myself standing at that bar once again, yelling over the loud music “what’s your cheapest spirit?”
It’s not like it helped in any real way. I’d always wake up really hungover, due back in work in only a few hours, still really behind on laundry.
Most of the time I didn’t care that I didn’t have the time to go anywhere, I was working to make as much money as I could, just to get by. In my mid twenties I worked almost every single day, I wasn’t going on holiday, I wasn’t even really spending that much outside of my rent, and bills, but for some reason my mere existence was still enough to get me into debt.
But every now and then a colleague would say “do you want to grab a drink after work tonight?” And in those moments I would feel justified in my decision “you never get to go anywhere” I’d tell myself. “Everyone else gets to spend their weekends in pubs, bars, restaurants, and you have to watch them enjoy, you deserve to have a drink”.
It’s a spiral that I’ve seen too many people in hospitality struggle to get out of.
I could only ever afford to drink in industry bars, or my own place of work. Some bars don’t offer staff discounts, but will buy really cheap beer at trade prices, just so the staff have something to drink after work - or during work… but apart from a brief lapse of judgement in 2020 that was never really my cup of tea.
My local was any bar where the bartender just knew. We didn’t have to talk, but I found comfort in our understanding. I wasn’t a regular anywhere other than work, Greggs, and my bed. For almost four years I rarely saw my wife for more than just a few hours at a time.
Helen Anne Smith
Now, for the past six months I have been lucky enough to get a job that has normal office hours. Apart from when on the occasional work trip, I find myself surprised by almost every single evening. I get to Friday and realise that I don’t have to spend the next thirty six hours waiting tables. Me and my wife finally have the time and energy to make our home a space that we (want to) live in.
We have some friends who live up the hill from us who we meet maybe once a week for a drink. We met them through our own individual avenues of hospitality. We sit on the terrace at our local pub which overlooks the River Usk, we discuss the crossword, exchange some gossip, sometimes make plans for dinner, it’s calm.
Don’t get me wrong I’m still falling out of taxis, I’m only 30, it takes little to no convincing to get me to do shots, and until we can afford a tumble dryer, or even find space for one, don’t think I’ll ever not be behind on laundry. But now it’s on my terms.
