Bar staff are human too

As the start of university approaches, many freshers will be getting excited for their first ‘big night out’ as a student. It might be their first night of heavy drinking or simply another in a long lineup to last for many years to come. Freshers’ week is culturally recognised as an important time of self-discovery in terms of one’s stomach capacity, social skills, and ability to lose inhibitions. But, although student life is often framed romantically, there is also a different, darker side which is rarely discussed.

The people serving the drinking masses, most of whom will be students themselves if they’re working on campus, will often find themselves subjected to the absurd whims of people who won’t even remember their actions the following morning. I speak from experience, having worked in the Student Union and in a bar outside of the university, and I know that what might seem like a harmless joke can have lasting consequences for bar workers.

My first job was working in Warwick Student Union as a steward and a bartender. It was an eye-opening and occasionally eye-watering experience. There were parts of it I loved – the Real Ale Festival, a handful of concerts – and I was lucky to have supportive colleagues on my side through the exhausting late hours. On the other hand, viewing POP! and listening to its barely-changing setlist through a sober lens week after week gave me a less than charitable perspective on many of those attending.

We were invisible, because even though we were sober and just trying to do our jobs, our personal space didn’t matter

Every week, there was usually at least one person who didn’t understand boundaries. My colleagues and I were grinded on, harassed and groped. We were invisible, because even though we were sober and just trying to do our jobs, our personal space didn’t matter.

In principle, it isn’t a bad thing to approach stewards or bouncers. It’s honestly quite a dull job, but it’s always important to be respectful and not let tempers fray or invade the personal space of those working. Likewise, those serving on the bar may make the occasional mistake, but abusing them or trying to make their life difficult is simply going to make everyone miserable.

Working in the SU isn’t something I regret, as it taught me a great deal and was an important part of my undergraduate experience. Working in bars after graduation turned out to be a different and far more unpleasant experience. Whether it was cleaning up glass and subsequently being used as a dancefloor prop, or staying on the edge of multiple brawls, or being screamed at by inebriated member of the public for no good reason, my time in the SU felt far safer and less traumatic in comparison.

I didn’t feel safe working in that environment, and I didn’t feel that my management would take what I was going through seriously or be able to do anything about it. Some people will be lucky. They will be able to work in a bar and won’t ever have an experience that turns them away from the profession for good. I hope that there are many people who will never have to go through that kind of experience.

Never feel afraid to reach out, to open up and, if things become too much, to walk away

Thankfully those that do harass bar staff are in the minority, but if you find yourself interacting with someone working, then please do the bare minimum of being polite, decent, and minding their personal space. What I faced and what others continue to face on a night-to-night basis is often dismissed as simply an occupational hazard. That does not mean that we shouldn’t address the struggles bartenders are forced to confront.

If you find yourself working behind the bar or in a club, you may find friends who go through the same difficulties as you do and a place where you can improve the nights of others. Those moments can be truly heartening. But, at the same time, it is easy to let the behaviour of others build up and become overwhelming. It might reach a point where it hurts your mental or physical health. Never feel afraid to reach out, to open up and, if things become too much, to walk away. Nobody’s fun is worth your suffering and nobody’s night out is worth your misery. Stay safe, drinkers and bartenders alike.