A night at the harbour bar

This is a work of fiction. Everything is made up except the parts that
matter. Have fun!

“Veronica! Go to your home, dear. It is already twenty minutes past
your shift.” I see her smiling, as if to remind me of her previous
answer. She already said that she will stay a bit longer to help me
wrap up the party. What she does not realise is that this will go on
for at least another hour. I hope she is up for it. At any rate, I
appreciate her camaraderie. Let her do as she wishes.

My colleagues are a hard-working bunch. I would run through a brick
wall to defend them. Our bonds are strong and we show solidarity
towards each other. Though this is not how they were introduced to me
by the director. His words were unflattering. “They put in the minimum
amount of effort and never waste an opportunity to fool around. Their
heart is not into it”, he remarked. I could sense a racist undertone,
as he did not say the same thing for the locals who are employed in
the other departments of the hotel. How likely is it that all the lazy
ones ended up working in the same place and are all of different
nationalities?

People will change their behaviour based on their social milieu. I
have noticed this phenomenon everywhere I have been, from school, to
extracurricular activities, and the various jobs I have done. It is up
to the leading figures to instil a culture of excellence which, to me,
goes hand-in-hand with being generous and a team player: be fair to
everyone, remember that you are not above the rules, and let your
deeds set the standard. I never tell anyone what the desired level of
performance is. Instead, I am the living embodiment of it. When I am
working, I do not try to cheat or pretend that I am trying. I do
everything properly, to the best of my abilities. And when it is time
for a break, I relax, satisfied with the effort I am putting in.

I am the head bartender. This is a seaside hotel by the harbour. It
hosts thousands of tourists throughout the season. It has three pools,
two restaurants, a beach bar, a pool bar, and a terrace bar, which is
this place I manage and where most of the alcohol is sold. I have
worked at this establishment in years prior, though I used to do only
morning shifts. I was thus eased into the role, learning all the
requisite skills without assuming too much responsibility too quickly.

I am held accountable for everything that happens to the terrace bar.
It only operates in the evenings. We do not prepare milkshakes here,
nor do we have the brassware to brew traditional style coffee the way
they do down at the pool. Guests are expected to be well dressed and
to enjoy their night as they listen to our live music. The animators
who put up the show are a wonderful group of talented people from
around the world. French, Brazilian, Angolan, Bulgarian… They
consist of many nationalities and I have learnt many things from them.
Capoeira looks cool, for example, but I will need a community around
it to appreciate its profundity. Doing it on my own will only be a
simulacrum of the real thing.

My duty is to make sure that everything is in order here. I am
entrusted with the keys, control the cashier and report to the
accounting department, fill in the forms for the requisition of
supplies, and make sure everybody fulfils their duties while also
enjoying equal rights. I coordinate with my colleagues to keep the
fridges full, ensure that we have clean glasses at all times, maintain
tidiness behind the bar, and serve drinks. Because of all these, I am
the first to come, last to go. And I take my role seriously.

This has been an extra long day. There was a wedding with over two
thousand guests. Now we are at the tail end of the wedding party. On
paper, they should have left an hour ago. But here we are, ready to
prepare more drinks. My experience tells me that we will stay open at
least until 3 AM, two hours more than our usual shift. Papers only
matter when you are in a position of strength. Ordinary workers either
accept the working conditions as those arise or risk being dismissed
at the earliest opportunity. We are expendable. There is always
someone ready to take the job. Maybe the more competent labourers are
harder to replace, though the dynamic is the same for everybody.

My shift normally starts at 4 PM and ends at 1 AM, though today I am
on a double shift. I arrived at nine in the morning to set up the
tables with the champagne and then to serve the drinks. The wedding
ceremony was at noon. Time flies when you are having a good time. It
is not busy right now. I have prepared only a couple of cocktails in
the past hour and Veronica served one table. The guests are tired and
worn down by the countless beverages they have had. I know I can
handle it on my own from now on. It was half past eight when I left my
apartment. I do not feel tired because of all the adrenaline. Though I
know I am not unbreakable. All this work does take a toll on me. I
will need to rest as much as possible until my next shift which,
thankfully, is back to my usual afternoon schedule.

Here is this girl again… Now she has brought the groom along with
her. These people do not know when to quit. “The lady asked you for a
drink and you refused to serve her. Why’s that, son?” Such are his
words as he struggles to maintain his balance. “Your friend is clearly
pissed, my man, and I will not poison her with any more piña colada.
She should go to bed now. Just look at her and show responsibility!” I
appeal to his common sense. That girl has had about half a bottle of
rum, plus the extras, and she clearly cannot tolerate any more of it.

I get these encounters from time to time. People may be aware of what
they ask, but they do not necessarily have the clarity to discern what
they need. This is one of those cases where the person’s desire runs
counter to their immediate wellness. I have witnessed a man die from
liver failure and I will not let that happen on my watch. This woman
is at risk of serious damage if she continues with such unbridled
habits.

Alcohol consumption is deeply ingrained in our culture as a form of
socialisation. A couple of drinks can loosen you up and make you enjoy
the company better. This is probably because it lowers your self
awareness and thus focuses your mind on the relatively fewer functions
you can still do well. The less we think about our self in a social
setting, the more easygoing we tend to be. But there is a fine line
between relaxing a person’s social reflexes and giving them the tools
to forgo control of themselves. The latter is usually what happens in
these situations as people do not know when to stop. If your friends
are still drinking, you do it too. The cycle invigorates itself. Some
will be more talkative while intoxicated but otherwise will not become
an immediate threat to anyone but themselves. Whereas those who are
more assertive may get dangerous. It is such a tricky situation to be
in. Thankfully, we have had no instance of violence at the party. They
are just too drunk to string together more than a few coherent
thoughts.

It seems Veronica is not the only one around. I guess my stubbornness
is contagious… “Hey, Andy! You are still around, big guy? I told you
to go home already. I can tell you are knackered.” This is a special
event. My colleagues have all shown extraordinary commitment even
though it was not asked of them to do more than usual. I appreciate
it. “Come here, mate”, I urge him. “Is there anyone you fancy at the
party? I will call them here.” I gently turn his attention towards the
animation crew. He smiles and is blushing. Here is this strong man
with an innocent heart. Such an endearing moment! “Fine, I am teasing
you”, I reassure him as I pat his back. “You can leave now. I will
take care of the rest. Remember to take it easy. No problem; no
stress!” I take out a bottle of water from the fridge and pass it to
him. “Be careful and leave some for the rest of us, okay?”

The animators are packing up. They will be gone in ten minutes or so.
I see Veronica just standing there, waiting to take an order. I think
it is over now. I wave at her. She notices me and walks towards me.
“Since you are not leaving on your own, I will have to figure out an
alternative. We will shut down everything together. What do you
think?” She is quick to respond with a reassuring “okay”. We count the
number of guests and take out as many water bottles from the fringe.
Then I make the announcement. “We are closing shop folks. There is a
bottle of water for each of you. All numbers win!”

Veronica helps me tidy up the place and pull down the shutters. “Thank
you! I respect your ethos. Good night and see you tomorrow”, I tell
her. “Bye”, she says and leaves. Her room is ten minutes on foot from
here. My relationship with all my colleagues is friendly yet clearly
professional. I never ask anything about their private affairs and
know very little about them in general. In return, they know nothing
about my background and life outside of the current setting. This is
how I prefer it. Having done seasonal jobs before, I am aware that we
all come and go. The ones here are immigrants like myself. I will
probably not see them again once the season is over. I thus prefer not
to grow attached to anyone because it will hurt me when our paths
diverge.

I recall how I befriended a tourist girl when I was twelve. Tania was
her name. Our friendship lasted a grand total of four days, though it
felt like we had known each other for an eternity. We were just
playing around and talking. “I don’t speak England very best”, was
among the first things I told her, and then laughed out loud. She
smiled back, so I guess she found it charming. Formulaic pickup lines
are either a recipe for disaster or the conduit to a superficial
affair. You have to be your true self and behave casually. It also
helps you not to stereotype people and think they must respond in this
or that standard way. Let yourself be surprised. These are insights I
have developed over time. Back then I was just a kid with a childish
demeanour—which was fantastic!

There was this coin-op machine with a Pacman game installed. Tania
would consistently beat my high score. My excuse was that the game is
punishing me for giving it smaller coins. “This Pacman dude has taken
all my money”, I exclaimed. “And I suspect he likes you more!” Again,
I was being facetious. Only one type of coin could operate the
machine. The day she left with her parents we both cried. It taught me
how we can be close to someone when we are authentic. We do not need
to know them for years. This is why I am reluctant to have a repeat
scenario with any of the people I meet here. They will leave in a few
weeks. I am sure they are fine and we would have a good time together,
but I am not willing to suffer again. Maybe one day I will realise my
folly and internalise the notion that nothing lasts forever, anyway.
It is not about the duration, but the quality. I might grow to
appreciate things while they are, for as long as they occur. But I am
not there yet. I still labour under the illusion that I will build
connections that last a lifetime and must thus avoid the ephemeral
ones.

There is a part of me that knows this is a mistake. I do not regret
the time I spent with Tania. The fact it was a brief encounter is
irrelevant. Perhaps it was even better this way. Though I cannot make
a case for the counterfactual. It does not matter if we know something
at the rational level. I can recite all the sound advice I have heard,
but it has no consequence in my life if I do not implement it. It is
not our claims that matter, but our actions. This is how you
understand a person: check their behaviour. There is a hard-to-bridge
chasm between theory and practice. We have to apply whatever precepts
continuously to eventually embed them in our conduct. I can, for
example, have a friendly chat with Veronica. It is easy to do and
there are plenty of opportunities each day. Though I prefer to keep it
professional, perhaps as an excuse to cling to my old ways. Undoing
established routines takes time and requires courage; courage you must
muster to step out of your comfort zone. Only then will you render
yourself available to new opportunities. This might be the default
outlook of my self in his thirties if I start putting in the effort.
But I am not there yet.

Most of the guests are heading to their rooms. Everything went
smoothly today. It is a major achievement, though we are not going to
see any extra money at the end of the month. The tips are too few to
matter. They are about the same as usual. The executives will receive
a handsome bonus for the wedding. It is always the same and I know it
is not fair. Sure, they did their part but everything here would
easily fall apart if all of us were indeed fooling around. It is well
past my shift yet I am not done here. I do it because this is how
things should be done. Nobody will reward me though. Integrity is
about your quality, not your performance in light of certain
incentives. I still have to compile the receipts for the accountants.
Then I must write the requisition and file it at the storehouse. It is
mind-boggling how much booze we sold. Tomorrow will be more of the
same.

I do this job to save money for my studies. I pay all the tuition and
living expenses out of my pocket. My parents cannot afford to help me.
When the school year starts in October, I will be doing other jobs.
The specifics vary, though the everyday interactions with people are
broadly similar. I am in good terms with everyone. There have been
cases where some middle manager with an inflated ego thought too
highly of their role, though I have learnt to mind my business. I do
not want to fix anyone and am committed to my goal. I wish to get my
degree and then move on to the next phase in my life. I have no clear
plan of what that eventuality will look like, though I imagine it will
be unlike the current one.

There are people who have their aspirations sorted out from an early
age and do not deviate from them. Good for them, I guess. I remember
many of my classmates in secondary education already knowing what they
wanted to become as adults. How could they have figured it all out?
Was it by their own volition or were they conforming with their
parents’ wishes? Maybe my parents did try to nudge me towards a
certain direction, but I was too unruly to pay attention. I had to do
things my own way, learn from my mistakes, and mature accordingly.
What matters is the kind of person you become, not how you started. If
you are honest with yourself, are a dependable teammate, and remain
down to earth, then you are fine in my view. But if you are some
obnoxious egoist who thinks that an academic title or a high social
standing makes you special, then I have no respect for you. Sod off!

I do not feel sleepy. I will take a walk by the coast and then head to
my friend George’s place to salute him. He runs a family business by
the seaside. It is a small club that plays music until the early
morning hours. I expect to find him there. But I will savour this
moment first. I always take off my shoes when I walk along the beach.
The sense of the waves touching my feet engenders in me a uniquely
relaxing feeling. It puts me in a contemplative mode. The sea holds
the potential for a wide range of experiences. When it is calm, you
feel safe. When it is stormy, it reminds you of its latent dangers and
of your powerlessness in the face of cosmic processes. At all times,
it triggers in you a sense of wonder. How can this all be? Can we
learn anything by shifting our attention away from the trivialities of
our quotidian affairs towards the nature all around and within us?
What will happen to our attitude if we manage to live in accordance
with our natural rhythms? I have no answers. All I can do is try and
figure something out after decades of commitment.

Humans have sailed the high seas for millennia. Some did it out of
necessity. Others out of greed or in pursuit of glory. And others
still with an inkling of hope that they would finally discover that
which eluded their conscience. There is something that compels us all
into action. Such is the constant of our experience. How we
rationalise it or explain it as part of our larger lifeworld is
another matter altogether. We do have a narrative about it or, at
least, a rudimentary way of framing it. Sometimes, we do not change it
and let it condition our future decisions. But there are moments when
we see through the veil to recognise that there is scope for your
remaking, at which point you venture off on the adventure of becoming
what effectively is another person. Like the waves that come in
contact with my feet, each expression will be different, each case
will have a unique constitution in how its factors are arranged, and
every one can mean something special. Thinking back to Tania and the
potential of liking or loving someone, moments are all we ever get.
The sooner we learn to have presence in our present, the lighter our
life will be.

Buffalo soldier is playing in the distance. George is a force to be
reckoned with. “Hey, big bad wolf! I love the moustache you are
rocking.” I say loudly as I approach him by the DJ set. I have known
George for a couple of years. We call each other “the mafia lord”.
This is a joke that came about as we were remarking that we could be
specialising in another profession instead of tourism. “For an
intelligent guy like you to be working here, it means you are hiding
some lucrative business you do at the docks”, he told me once while
smiling through that thick facial hair of his. “I shall funnel the
proceeds through this morally unimpeachable establishment of yours”, I
added.

With George you have to always assume he is high on some of that good
lettuce. Otherwise, he must have fell in the pot with the magic sauce
when he was a baby, like Obelix. I never saw him with a frown on his
face. Nor have I ever met another person with such a seemingly
bottomless enthusiasm for what he enjoys. “You are still awake, you
little bastard? Did some mermaid pull you out of your slumber?” I
laugh without giving him an answer. I then explain how I am just
passing by, but will not be staying for a drink. He inquires in a more
serious voice about my day. I give him a thumbnail sketch of it. “Now
the real work starts at the docks”, I say in jest and wave him
goodbye.

There is no substitute for the experiences you gather through everyday
interactions with people. You become acquainted with a diversity of
personalities, tastes, and perspectives. This is what makes somebody
street smart as opposed to book smart. Ideally, we need both to have a
rounded appreciation of the finer points. I believe that I would not
pay as much attention to the plurality of our condition if I was to
only read about it. When I now think of the differences between us as
well as our shared nature, I bring to mind the image of George, Tania,
Andy, and Veronica. These are instantiations of a common thread that
runs through all of us. I can identify what is constant in the
multitude of our interactions, without discounting the elements of
individuation therein. I cannot connect emotionally with a book and
make jokes with it. There is no hugging or kissing it and feeling your
emotions reciprocated. Will I ever stand up for it the way I would for
my colleagues? Books will provide you with knowledge that is decoupled
from any given person or, at best, introduce you to an idol that you
piece together in a controlled fashion.

People here do not believe that I am a “real introvert” because they
witness how eloquent and relaxed I am when around people. I do not
seek to be with others: I enjoy my time alone, though I also have no
problem in the company of someone. What they do not realise is that an
introverted person is not necessarily shy. Nor is this personality
trait a prerequisite for social anxiety. We feel awkward when we are
forced to do something we do not like. We also are uncomfortable when
we keep pretending to be someone we are not. I have met many an
extrovert who are shy and who struggle to keep a conversation going.
Their mistake is to play a script in their head that consists of
certain rehearsed steps and which must meet concrete performance
targets to qualify as a success. The notion of it being a performance
is what undermines their efforts. You do not have to impress the
person you fancy with some spectacular demonstration of your skills.
Imagine bumping into someone and within the first few sentences you
flex about the long articles you write. It feels overdone and
insecure. Moreover, it shows you are not focused on the moment and the
person in front of you but are too obsessed with yourself.

The understated qualities you have are reserved for those who are
interested enough to discover them. Advertising them on your forehead
will only make you look silly. The kind of person who is invested in
learning more about you is the one you ultimately want to be with
long-term. Show the same towards them and go with the flow. If you are
uncertain that your truthfulness is not yielding results, then ask
whether you will be better off in an alternative scenario. I can only
imagine that drunken girl from earlier, who was asking for something
that she would deeply regret afterwards. Show faith in the world by
not making certain wants unconditional. There are opportunities for
fulfilment outside such boundaries. Developing tunnel vision will only
make you oblivious to them.

There is something to learn from the little things. I notice
Veronica’s patience and kindness. Nothing seems to upset her. I want
to be like that myself. Andy’s sheer strength inspires me to stay fit.
He never misses a day of training. I wish to do the same. While
George’s charisma tells me to not take myself too seriously. Being
street smart makes you less prone to project your biases unto others.
You will have a fairly accurate frame of reference to assess when
something is too far-fetched. Whereas a virtual view of people can
skew your expectations accordingly. You might think in terms of
stereotypes, like the tired old meme “all men/women are the same”.
They are not and this kind of mindset is not helping you deal with the
peculiarities of real people. Spend some time out there. Suspend
judgement and give others a fair chance. Then you will believe in the
results.

Assuming a persona is the worst thing you can do to yourself. Imagine
someone falls in love with what you are showing. What do you do next?
Do you keep the charade indefinitely? You will probably be exposed
sooner or later. Or do you reveal your true colours, which will most
probably make the other person feel deceived and ensnared? There is
this inane concept among some of the more insecure guys I have met,
which prescribes how they should be a “real man” who is strong above
all else, keeps his girlfriend/wife at bay by being dominant, and
stuff like that. They may include some common sense points, like being
responsible, but there is nothing inherently gendered about
those—are there no responsible women, for instance? I then think of
George and his family of six to quickly realise how preposterous all
this role-playing is. George is neither strong nor domineering. He is
as sweet as it gets. What I think his wife Yolanda likes about him is
the same quality a friend is drawn to: his authenticity and all that
is predicated on it.

A friend and a romantic partner are fundamentally the same in this
regard. You do not befriend others through conquest. Using brute force
will only yield servants or accomplices to some unscrupulous cause,
but none of those will care about you as a person. You as a conqueror
will remain deeply isolated while being in the midst of your flunkies.
This shall be your punishment. Why would you then get a partner that
way? And why would you ever want to be a tyrant towards someone you
should be loving and receiving love from? It is fine to be indomitable
and have the stamina to operate as a one-man-army, though what matters
the most is the person you are. Show respect and you will have it
reciprocated in spades. Be a bully and you shall always suffer
profoundly as a victim of the deep-seated insecurity you never chose
to confront. Make no mistake: these are gender-agnostic magnitudes.
Let not the appearance of success deceive you. Money or fame are no
substitute for peace and the stability it brings.

I guess I am on a roll now. Maybe they should be doing more of those
weddings! I am not far from my apartment. This introspection has been
benign. I think it paves the way for encounters that require such
preparatory work. It all boils down to the “no problem; no stress”
outlook I told Andy. There may not be literal mermaids out there,
though those mythical creatures are our way of recognising the
mysteries this world has in store for us. We cannot pretend to know
everything and, above all, we must not assume that our desires, the
way we can formulate them in present time, are necessarily the only
ones that can yield us what we need. These are my thoughts as I feel
the breeze on this peaceful night. The sea is never the same. Even if
you have visited every shore, there is always something new to be
learnt; something awesome to be experienced; something special to be
acquired and something, still, to be left to its own fate. There may
come a day, friend, when you meet someone your dreams have not
anticipated.