The Bartender

A long time ago, when I was about six or seven years old, my father took me to a bar. Not being allowed to drink, I just watched the bartender and his precise graceful movements. It mesmerized me.

My dad had ordered a drink, and I kept my eyes on that man's hands. They were so skillful and smooth, like a professional pianist's. And he smiled the entire time he made the drink. His dark brown hair was slicked back and his bright green eyes flicked back and forth as he mixed the liquid. He poured out the concoction into a glass and slid it across the clean wood to my father.

I was in complete awe as I just sat and continued watching the man prepare beverages for other customers. I think that I could've stayed there for days, just watching him make those drinks.

Once my father had finished his order, he placed the glass down and slid it across the table, calling "Barkeep? May I get another?"

The bartender frowned and walked over. I was surprised by the sudden change in emotion, considering he was smiling the entire time I saw him. Me, being as curious as I was, asked "What's wrong?"

The man looked at me as he was starting to prepare my father's drink. He put down the bottle and leaned over the counter, thumbing at my dad. "Well, your father here doesn't know the difference between a barkeep and a bartender."

My eyes examined his features questioningly.

My father laughed. "Then lets hear an explanation."

The bartender continued to prepare the drink. "Well, bartender is made of two words… Bar means a roost, or a place of rest, correct?" He poured out the drink and handed it to my father. Then he started something else. "And tender means kind… A barkeeper is someone who keeps the bar, not tends to it. So learn the difference between someone who keeps the roost," He poured the red-orange drink into a glass. "And someone who is the tender of it." He passed the drink to me.

I looked at my dad, who smiled and nodded for me to try it out. I picked up the glass and drank the liquid. It was like a fruit punch, but it was mild and a bit tart. No alcohol, of course.

My face lit up from the tasty drink.

The bartender winked, smiled, and went off to other customers.