I worked in a pub while I was going to school. I was 17 back then. I don't know how I made it, but I got hired. First of all, I didn't have any experience at all. Second, I lied that I was 18. It was good because I could work a lot of hours over the weekend and at nights while studying during the day.
Since leaving in 2003, I have been back there (for a beer, not to work) on only a few occasions. No, I didn't get kicked out because they found out about my age from my social security number, they still thought I was 18. It's just that you gotta be 21 to actually touch alcohol. I mean making martinis and just drinks. But there are a couple of things that I have learnt besides making jack daniels and coke, campari, and cosmopolitan.
Firstly, nothing changes: I was amazed at the number of faces that are still going there (more worse for wear than when I worked there). I haven't changed that much but most only a vague recollection of who I am, although I was their source of sustenance for 3 months. Probably a combination of time and alcohol. I remember them, and their favorite ale.
Secondly, people in bars all over the country are the same, only the faces are different. Every time I go into a bar I meet another Bob the car salesman that sneaks in for a quick beer on his way home, Fred the builder that has no life outside work and the pub, the old granny that comes in on pension day to blow the week's pay on pokies, the has-been rugby player, the young know-it-all that thinks he's fantastic (but will end up being the...