Sometimes Shit Happens


A year has passed.

I’ve been away.

I am back!

You’ve been warned…

This past year has been a whirlwind.  Personally and professionally, I have been on one hell of a ride.  Somewhere along the way, I lost my “funny”.  One thing I didn’t lose – my desire to connect the world through great drinks, great food and laughter.  In order to do that, I needed to go “away”.  I needed to just “shut up” for a while.

I do not believe in posting, blogging, tweeting bullshit just for the sake of keeping my face and brand out there.  There is enough clutter and noise on the world wide web and in the world in general.  I refuse to contribute to that mental litter.  Our lives have too much nonsense and bullshit.

This blog began with a simple idea – bring the WHOLE bartender to you.  

Show that bartenders are more than just the people who sling your drinks.

In the year I have been absent from this blog, I have been taking the time to create new cocktail recipes for us, experiment in the kitchen for us, observe the nonsense that comes along with my job in order to make us all laugh again.

To those of you that reached out to see where the hell I have been and when the hell I am coming back, THANK YOU!

Strap yourselves in and buckle up!

Xo, Amy

I’ll Face It With a Grin

Sometimes, you just need a theme song.  Kind of like Rocky Balboa or even the Golden Girls.

When it’s time to step behind the bar, I listen to this song.

You see my friends, to me, bartending is like being on stage. We engage with our audience. We perform for our audience. We want you to leave life at the door. We want to keep you coming back for more.


The truth is, it’s harder than it looks.

Maybe we just had a fight with our significant other.

Maybe the car didn’t want to start.

Maybe the kids are sick.

Maybe someone we love is dying.

Maybe business is slow and we are worried about making the rent.

Maybe we are on our third double to make ends meet.

Maybe our threshold for the ridiculous has been surpassed.

Maybe we aren’t getting along with our “band mates”.

Maybe the customer before you was a real “piece of work”.

Maybe we have endured the Chef’s wrath because of all the “special requests” that are coming in with every single order.

Whatever “it” is…

…we leave it at the door and put it all on the floor.

This song inspires me to do just that.  I think of Freddy Mercury in the studio laying down what would be his last track.  How gravely ill he was at the time. How he went in there and nailed it.

This song is my anthem.  I hope you enjoy it even half as much as I do.

The Show Must Go On


XO, Amy

Never tell your kids where you work

I feel a sense of responsibility to the global community. Like someone with super powers using them for good and not evil.

If I am going to have this media platform, I feel compelled to warn others when there is danger (or epic foolishness) lurking in our communities and in our homes.

imageConsider the following story a cautionary tale…

Once upon a busy night at work, the phone call came. The call no parent wants to get.
“Your son is on the phone.”
My heart sank. “Tell him I am extremely busy. Ask if it’s an emergency”, I said frantically.
A moment later, “he says it IS an emergency”.

Cue the dramatic music, mamma is about to have a heart attack!

imageIn a flash, I deployed my emergency resources. Like Santa calling for his Reindeer!
“On Donna to table 108 for an order!”
“On Janice to the kitchen for the birthday cake and candles!”
“On Manager to the bar to finish making my drinks!”
“On Hostess to my two new tables with menus and an apology!”

This had all the makings of the proverbial “shit show”.

I scramble to the phone trying to maintain my composure.
ME: “Honey, what’s wrong?!”
SON: “Mum, can I have my XBox back? I’m bored.”
ME: ‘click’

imageApparently we have differing opinions on what constitutes an EMERGENCY!

I am no Emily Post, BUT…

Consider this a public service announcement.

There has been a rash of ill-mannered people on the loose.  I am not sure where they are coming from.  I have looked under several rocks, but have not found their nest yet.



Here is a list of the offenses and my internal dialogue/struggle:

OFFENSE                                                  MY SOLUTION

Loud, open-mouthed burping                   A ninja punch to the throat

Talking with mouth full of food               Wrap your face in napkin, knot tightly at neck

Piling discarded snot rags on bar           Don hazmat suit, employ cootie spray

Loud talking                                                 A swift ninja punch to the mouth

Loud talking on cell phone                        Take my wet bar towel, snap in your eye

Incessant, loud dropping ‘F-bomb’         Soap your mouth, call your mother

Invade other patron’s personal space    Death stare with UFC Peruvian Necktie

Raised in a barn?

Childhood home?

There are several more offenses that can be added to this list.  Feel free to share your’s. But leave your remedy as well.  Because if you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the problem.

Xo, Amy

Like a moth to a flame…

Recently, during a rather busy bar shift I became “inspired” by one of my guests.  As I looked up from the ice bin I had been face first in for the last nine hours, in she walked.

Like a breath of fresh air in her cream-colored blouse, gray pencil skirt and black heels with her wavy brown hair pinned back by designer sunglasses.  I watched as she exchanged pleasantries with some of the other patrons all while making her way around the bar towards the last two tables we had available.

That’s when “it” happened.  “Inspiration” reared up and kicked me square in the freakin’ face!



Which one of these things is not like the other?

Which one of these things is not like the other?

It never fails!  It’s bad enough when one person makes this decision, BUT when a group comes in and not one in the bunch has the good sense to pick the clean table it boggles my mind.  It shakes me at my core. I worry for our society . It is these types of problem solving “skills” that will render us extinct by the year 2050.

Is it because you like the “lived-in” look?

Do you like the warmth left behind in the seat by the previous person’s ass?

Is it because you don’t want to mess up the clean table?

Ugh! WHY?

Can anyone out there answer this for me?!

Do you have any idea how hard it is for any of us servers to be nice to you when you do this?

It hurts me to even smile at you.

It takes all I have not to yell, “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?”! Followed by a strategically placed slap to the side of your head.

So do me and the rest of us in the service industry a favor –


Xo, Amy