It is just over 4 years since this old guy started pulling a few pints behind the bar as opposed to just being served and drinking in them. Here's a few reflections....
I have not worked behind a bar for that long, really. Until recently I'd only had few stints helping out at beer festivals over the years, but even that was very intermittently. So when, a few years ago, I mentioned to my good mate Michael Ainsworth who runs two bars in Halifax that I had retired from my full-time job and he asked if I wanted to join the team, it would be more or less the first time I had worked in a pub or bar. And I wasn't certain at first, as whilst I was a regular particularly at the original bar, the Grayston Unity, I knew all the staff, had got to know many of the customers, and I had helped out at various events over the years, I wasn't immediately sure if it was for me. That said, I had always been a bar hanger so I suppose it was only one step beyond. Eventually though I said I would give it a go, and so for the first time in my life I could list bartender on my CV.
Mind you, it was the early part of 2021 and the country was still under lockdown because of the pandemic, and so it was not until the middle of April that the pubs began to re-open after their enforced lay-off. And when they did, it was not like pubs as we knew it as they were only permitted to serve customers outside, which meant that not all pubs had the facilities so they could open. Of the two bars, the other being the Meandering Bear which had no outdoor area, only the Grayston was able to open by virtue of having a yard out the back and access to the terrace at the side of the Town Hall where tables and chairs could be set out. So my first experiences involved going out to serve customers. ask them to fill out their name and contact details on a slip of paper, then take their order, return to the bar where it would be sorted, and then deliver it to them, whilst simultaneously learning how to the work the till, the card machine, and familiarising myself with the range of gins we offered. So there was a lot of learning, walking, and then bringing the fold-down tables and chairs back in at the end of the evening and locking them in a corral round the back of the building.
Things had changed at the Grayston from pre-lockdown. When it had first opened, the it was a quirky bar with a somewhat bohemian vibe split into two small rooms, along with a corridor area which led out to.the yard round the back. The bar was in the room as you entered the pub, which was a place for conversation and catch-ups whilst gigs took place in the other room, which was decked out like it was your Grandma's living room with sofa, rug, and various other quirky ephemera. The official capacity of this room was only 18, which made the Grayston at that time the smallest licensed music venue in the country. The novelty that brought was great for publicity, but in reality it became impractical as it limited the scope of what could be offered.
During the second lockdown the decision was taken helped by financial support from the Arts Council amongst others to remove the dividing wall and turn the Grayston into a single room. Tweaks to the bar itself took place, and the floor in the two erstwhile rooms, which had been at slightly different heights, was levelled out. The resulting changes meant the capacity was able to be increased to 55, which opened up new opportunities of what could be featured. So when customers were able to return inside they were greeted with a different look to what had gone on before, and this marked my time working at the Grayston.
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| Mr Ainsworth and the bard of Halifax.... |
The pub might have been opened out but everything else about the Grayston was cramped. If two of you were behind the bar it was tight, particularly after a trap door was created in the floor with a precipitous drop into the cellar so that if it was open it meant you were basically trapped at one end of the bar. The hand pumps had their own personalities and it was typical that the one serving the best-selling beer, Goose Eye Chinook, was the most temperamental. Space was limited for everything, so returned glasses would be jostling for space with pork pies and spare beermats, whilst the till was wedged into a space between the bar and sink beneath which sat the glass washer. So it was all very compact! Down in the cellar, which the original way to access was by moving a table and lifting a section of the floor and then lowering yourself on to the top step of a wooden ladder, it was similarly tight for space. There were several separate but crammed areas with barrels and gas cylinders in one room with a cooler and bottles, crisps, cleaning materials, and the like stacked at various points, with bottling up involving several trips up and down the ladder at the end of a shift. But it was a wonderful place to be, whichever side of the bar you were on.
At first, I worked mainly at the Grayston but gradually started to have more regular shifts at the second bar, the Meandering Bear on Union Street which Michael and Jess had opened with local businessman Andrew Murphy in September 2019. This was a completely different kettle of fish to the Grayston, being a classy bar created out of a former shop unit that had been closed for 15 years since it had last been used as an amusement arcade. The decor was very stylish and included a panel on one waĺl featuring a poem telling the story of the eponymous bear by local poet Kieron Higgins. The seating was comfortable, the vibe was relaxed, and it was very much a place to chill out. Food was available too, with meat and cheese boards and grilled sandwiches on the menu. From a working point of view, the place was much more spacious with plenty of room behind the bar and more space there and in the cellar to keep things organised. And it had a dress code too, black shirt and an apron the order of the day. The clientele were more mixed, with more couples and groups of ladies coming along, often following a visit to the Piece Hall next door when footfall increased significantly as the summer gig season got underway.
And over the next 3 years or so this became my regular workplace, with shifts increasingly rare at the Grayston especially after its re-location to bigger premises on Horton Street. I generally work the middle shift on a Sunday, which has fluctuated over time between 4 till 7, 2 till 6, and more recently 3.30 till 6.30. And with that kind of regularity, I've got to know a lot of the regulars who come in week in, week out. The guys wanting a bottle of Guinness, the couple who always order a pint and a half of our lager from Munich, Hacker Pschorr, the lady who comes in and orders half of Aspalls, bread and cheese, often asks for a taste of different beers, and then usually has a glass of red wine, the couple who come in where halves of different beers and Aspalls, ginger beer, and maybe a glass of Chenin Blanc are the order of the day, and the couples who come in where the guys insist on having their beer in tulip glasses. And then there's the general mix of people going to the rugby, visiting Halifax as tourists, Piece Hall visitors, and just the general mish-mash of visitors to the bar. With very few exceptions, it is always a pleasure to serve everyone who comes through the door.
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| Sunday afternoon jazz at the Meandering Bear.... |
I have learnt so much over the past few years since I started working here, from serving with customers and working with colleagues who, without exception, have always been younger than me, and with virtually no exceptions have been an absolute pleasure to work with, many of whom have become good friends. Talking to people, listening, wisdom coming from sometimes unexpected sources across both sides of the bar. I have become much more tolerant and understanding and realised that the way to look after the customer is exactly how you would like to be treated yourself. Most customers are happy when you chat to them, ask them how their day is going, and remember what they like to drink, although of course some customers simply want to order their drink, pay for it, and then walk away. You have to respect their wishes.
And I am limited in what I do. I pride myself on pulling a good pint of cask - accepting that people have different preferences for the size of their head of course - I am fine on most other things, but I am not comfortable generally with cocktails. That said, one afternoon at the Grayston I ended up making several mojitos with one lady coming back to say it was the best she'd ever had, and promptly ordered another. Clearly a fluke!
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| Some of the lovely people I have had the pleasure to work with.... |
And as an aside, it has all helped in writing this blog. I am generally more understanding when I go elsewhere and see how the staff are working, but also more critical as well - why are they doing that?, what's the problem with that? etc. We wouldn't do that, you think. Why aren't they looking to see if there any customers waiting? Why are they selling that? But you also pick up ideas, see what the other guys are doing, and sometimes you are really impressed by how it's all being run.
And that's just my view from my short period of working behind the bar. But I can highly recommend giving it a go at whatever age you are....
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