Just a quick update; I moved into town, bought a new bed (which is yet to be broken in...), bought a new phone AND worked Christmase Eve and Boxing Day nights to minimal fights. It wasn't too bad, really. Busy, but not any worse than any Melbourne nighclub on a Saturday night.

Looks like I'm back on. Again. With manager. Not as easy as before but still there, he won't let me fuck off and out of his reach.. he'll be in for a rude shock once I get completely sick of this.

The other night, he yelled at me. He dragged me upstairs and REALLY yelled at me for being a "smartass" and a "bitch" to him. And who says girls are overly emotional. What started this was, we both started work and it took him 4 hours to say anything to me, and his first words were "what are you doing?" "wlaking this way."

I veeery quickly rectified what I said when I saw how pissed off he was, but damage was done.

I said he was an asshole and he should have said hello, at least, just like he does to
EVERY other staff member.

40 minutes later we get no where in the bickering and he says "meet me in town tomorrow, we'll talk about this then."

We meet "tomorrow" at the park. We lay down together and talk about life. His, mostly. He has his arm around me and says "come here." I resist and he says "here's your problem, do what you're fucking told."

I nuzzle deeply into his chest at his demand, and rest my thigh over his groin. My hand is flat against his chest and he's inhaling the smell of my conditioner. I'm in short-short denims and a loose grey mans t-shirt that falls off my shoulders, hair out and loose and wavy. I smell like strawberry's, and he smells like his mid-economy cologne.

"You know what your problem is?" he sighs.
"You're addicted to me."

I don't say much. Additive personality marked with a youthful enthusiasm.. well.

"First it was to my cock, then to the orgasms, then it was to the way I treated you. Now it's just me."

I continue to stay quiet, rubbing his chest.

I press my thigh against his groin and he rumbles deeply "you want to shag, don't you?"

Yes.
Fuck yes.
Please YES.

"Let's go."

I bolt and make it home before he does (hey... sports car vs his sedan...). I quickly shake my hair out, more strawberry, put on a gorgeous pair of checkered g-string which rides right up my ass, hugging my hips and barely covering my softness. I was so ready for him I was quivering when he opened the door.

"Had to run home and get ready for me huh?"

I smile, and lean against his 6.5ft frame, I kiss his cheek, avoiding his lips as per his previous request a few weeks ago. He kisses me, Deep. Lots of tongue. Skillfully.

He holds my thigh and pushes me to the ground. He kisses my tummy, spreads my thighs and tongue fucks me til I come right against him. He keeps my tighs in the same position and pulls himself into me, sliding over my chest, cock to the hilt inside me, and fucks me til we both cum together, fall onto the floor and lie arm in arm in the air conditioner.

So.

I didn't really think anyone read this per se, but I had a few *uhem* messages through Reddit asking for what the heck happened.

Well, unrelated but at the same time, relevant to why I haven't posted, it's been a weird week. First, I bought a new iMac -- hooray! And then it went all downhill. My car broke down, badly. I hit a kangaroo. Boss broke up with me. iPhone got stolen. I worked 60 hours this week.

etc.

But I'm back on my feet now.

So, what happened?

There were so many tears, so much suppression of feelings, I didn't want to put it all down. I worked with him a few times since, and each he said "no.. just, no" if I'd hint at something. I was very very heartbroken and honestly, I felt more for him than I should have. I was a little in love with him. I'd asked him if he'd ever touch me again, ever have a slip up.. it was an adamant no. And then... then Saturday happened.

Since my car broke down, I had no way home, so he offered me a lift. I got in his car, exhausted after 11 hours of work. He was very, very stressed out all night with the huge wave of functions (Christmas parties and whatnot), new staff and management he's clashing with, so he didn't say much.

I simply sighed and said "Hey, we had a rough night tonight, do you want to come in? I'm alone."
"Yeah, but only for a minute."

We get in the door, and he pulls all his things out of his pocket. He says "I can't stay for long.." and he looks around, he'd never been in my new apartment before.

I loosen my uniform and he sits down. "Come here, you." I collapse down next to him, and sigh, bare thighs over his legs, face between his shoulder and neck, nuzzling and struggling to stay awake. He wraps his arms around my ass and lifts me more onto his lap, and we stay like that for a while, with the low hum of Led Zep in the background from the neighbours. It's about 3am.

I see an opportunity. With his hands on my ass, my mind circulated straight to my inner sex junkie looking for a dealer. Very quietly, very feminine, I ask if he'll lay down with me until I fall asleep. He agrees, and I direct him to the bedroom, he lays down and I flick off the light and lay down with my back to him. He pulls me into his chest with his arms and squeezes across my breasts, giving the back of my neck a kiss. Purposely I didn't press my ass against him, I really wasn't seeking anything but cuddles... to begin with.

5 minutes on, my thighs getting a little more alight with knowing how close he was, he whispers in my ear "you can have it... if you want."

I completely stiffen. My mind closes up. My body is still soft and lose and feminine in his but my mind just shut down. How do I play this? I want it but how the fuck.

I stutter and reconsider. "I want it, but I don't think you do."
"Give me your hand for a minute, Sloe."

He wraps my hand in his, and put it over his erect, thick cock.

Oh-hh.. fuck.

Everything inside me is about to pull his pants down and suck his cock. I had to restrain. I gag a little on my next words. "I can't, you're drunk and you've had a tough week."

"I'm not drunk!" he exclaims defiantly. "I've only had 4 beers and a WKD."

I go silent. I'm battling with myself.

"Don't overthink it. You want to and to be honest, I could use the relief.. and so could you."

"Okay".
I say it quietly and don't know if I meant it.

"Just a couple of rules" he says. "No kissing, you can't get the wrong idea. And I won't choke you. And you're in control. Ok?"

I nod.

 He hesitates and I grab his hands in a similar fashion and cup them firmly over my breasts. He presses his very hard groin against my ass and all my senses lit up, very very intensely I was suddenly very very awake. He pulls his jeans off and places his hand on the back of my neck, which, as if on very well trained cue, I start sucking his cock and he just groans so deeply and sexily, my body shudders around him.

He asks once I pull away, "what do you want from me?"
"Just.. take me."

He puts his hand on my hip, pushes me onto my back, and slides into me.

He fucks me deep, with a good pace. I want him to cum. I NEED him to cum. I need to feel him. I need to cum. I'm no better getting laid than I am NOT getting laid, it's still a mash of thoughts.

I, feeling frail against his big torso, turn over under him, which he knows exactly what I want.. he's going to fuck me hard and cum.

And he does. I'm soaked.
He's soaked.
He cums.
I cum.
We groan at the same time, and as he's thrusting his last thrusts, I'm wincing at the feeling of him and taking him into me.

He collapses over my back and massages my ass with one hand, kissing the back of my neck with the other.

He slept with me that night and I haven't seen him since.

It's over with him.
Not okay.

I squirted for the first time on Friday night.
It took three hours, over 50 regular orgasms, a lot of convincing and trust.

But I came the fuck all over him.

I let go of my psycho ex for good. Controlling, insane, manipulative and cruel.

Last night my manager invited me upstairs, and he didn't want sex.. he just wanted to sleep with me. Next to me. Assuming in the morning I got him "Macca's and some fruit", of course.

Not only that, but he's touching me more. In public even. This doesn't feel like the whole situation is 'hidden' anymore. Last night I was on the computer, and he rubbed my ass as he walked past. This morning, as I stuck around after giving him breakfast, he rubbed my shoulders and said "hey.." close to my ear. This is something this guy would never do, he's too proud. Butterflies churned. Something inside me says he's actually beginning to like me a little... he's changed the way he kisses me, talks to me, looks at me. It's quieter, different. Working with him is easier.

Work is harsh and long, Christmas is definitely here. Bookings, quick call-ins, stressed managers, and a staff meeting on Monday... the only one we've had this year.

Also, driving home, a hose blew in my engine.
Toyota, unimpressed.

Work related issues.

I don't even know where to start, this week was hectic.

I had my first complaint made about me on Saturday night.

I was on the back bar as a single server. This means I was by myself catering the beer and wine bar for 150 people having their Christmas function. I'd worked a split shift this Saturday, I was exhausted having done nearly 11 hours with an hours break -- my fault, they were intensely busy the whole time and I refused to take a break until it quietened down.

So it's late, I'm tired, and my ankle hurts. Doesn't matter, still smiling, still pouring beers, and maybe only slightly aggressively throwing bottles in the bin. A u of people wanted drinks after the speeches were made, so I propped the fridge door open with a bar stool so I could maneuver in and out without issue. So this old short guy comes up to me afterwards, sneers, and says "your fridge door is stuck open."

I said "yes mate, it is. The beer is still cold."
"Incompetent. You would NEVER have a job with me."

I roll my eyes and keep doing my job... when one of the other staff girls comes up to me and says "time to swap.. go meet (boss) before he meets you."


Oh for fuck sake.


Boss meets me in the hall, says "upstairs. Now."
He climbs the stairs and I follow, anger bubbling up.

"I didn't fucking do anything wrong"... I snap easily.
"Yes you did. He said you told him to fuck off when he told you to close the fridge door."

"No I did not!"

I was fuming and upset, plus I wasn't used to this boss, who's been inside me, yelling at me either. Sometimes it's hard to differentiate that he's not only my main lover, but also my manager. It'd been a long day and I was sick of smelling like a brewery and the thought of driving home was sickening and everything sucked. 


So he offers me his bed.

I'm huffing and obviously pissed off, and he gets up, says "fucking pull yourself together" and leaves back downstairs.. and there's an echo of the jukebox and thudding parties below.

Meh.

I walk to his room, slide the door across, undress and slip into one of his t-shirts to keep warm. I pace backwards and forwards into my head until before I know it, it's 4am, I'm waking up, and my boss slides in naked next to me.

"how'd tonight go?"
"fucking sucked.. had two brawls."
"mmm.."

he's been perversely stressed lately -- overworked, issues with another manager, issues with how things are going, Christmas, etc.

"want to suck my cock?"

The sex that followed was fucking intense. I was on top, I slid onto him and he pulled me into a grind... I kept up the pace and came, hard. I shivered and pushed for more, and came again.

"What the fuck was that? Jesus woman."

20 minutes later I was in a frenzy, being fucked and fucking his awesome dick. I rode his cock, he'd flex, I'd cum. He'd keep fucking me, I'd grind, he'd fuck me, I'd cum.

I came 29 times all up.. and by the end I was curled up in agony over his chest with him breathing 'relax' into my ear. I was shuddering and whimpering when he gently pulled out, bent me over, and started fucking me from behind... and when he came, I could feel him pumping into me, pushing his toned hips and chest into my lower back and ass, thrusting out the last of his cum.

He slums over next to me, and I fall asleep as he kisses my neck and lips gently.

Last night was a bit more upbeat. We stayed for staff drinks afterwards, and I was on my Reddit account goofing on /r/gw at work while the manager was closing. MY manager who was off the roster came up behind me close and said "you're staying here tonight."

So, after I dropped the rest of the drunks off at their prospective locations, I came back and slipped in beside him.

"You should take some photos with me" I quietly say from under his arm. "I want some photos of me sucking your cock."

He pushed for it that night, but I declined.. wasn't feeling upbeat, but the sex was still great. So that's on the cards.

In other news, the old rocker I adore said he loves me, and I had to back off. I'm also looking at moving out and way into town.

Lots of shifts this week..

A massive nationally-famous band played last night, and I worked. The pub I was at (#2) was dead... the pub I ended up at after work to "relax" was ABOVE capacity, acting as a nightclub, security and all.

And they had 4 new staff.
FOUR.
on a night like that.

So, the bar was packed, the new staff were panicking, my boss was stressing, they were running out of glasses... so I jumped the bar like a fucking ninja and worked for 4 hours helping the new staff out. New staff aren't that bad, and it's good for them on a busy night, but they couldn't handle this and my boss needed to be out doing manager things, not being a barman, so me jumping in free'd him up to do his actual job. These guys weren't useless, but let's break them down;

(k) is new female barstaff. I can't see why they hired her, no experience and she's not the most attractive girl. She's also rather large (not good behind a bar running into people), a little slow and a little aloof, but she's getting it.

(j) is a VERY competent bar guy, who wouldn't stop grabbing my ass and asking me to fuck him on the bar all night. Cockiest little prick I've ever met. Good looking and he KNOWS it, fast, clever, fun to work with and the girls love him.. plus he knows his drinks. VERY good value and a great hire.

(s) is gonna be good value.. tall, charming, good looking. Not fast or high-energy, but did really well for his first night.

(p) is the new closing manager. Fuck P. /end

but the upsetting thing is, after an awesome night of unpaid labor and feeling great for helping out, when the bar got quiet I jumped out and one of the older female staff dumps a Jack and Coke in front of me.. which was obviously 4 or 5 shots. And I got through a fair chunk of that bottle.

Why? Cos manager was being an asshole.

So when the older staff member, B, and I left and dropped my car off, he called me back. And we sat in that pub for an hour and talked.

The basics are; people still know we're fucking. His ex sent him a facebook message crying to him about it (he left her to persue me). He's upset that I get so upset when he rejects me for being so tired (fair enough, the guy gets about 3 hours sleep a night and works 50 hour weeks). He said how he likes me but not in that way, and that's when I cracked it.

"What the FUCK is wrong with me that you wouldn't want me?"
"Nothing, you're amazing."
"Then what the FUCK is it?"
"Well.."

Age.
Faith.

"if I was a Christian that wouldn't change a fucking thing."
"Yes, it would, it'd change everything.."

For fuck sake.

I had to go. It was hard.
He hugs me and asks what I'm doing Wednesday.

"Nothing."
"We'll go out and talk about this then."
"Okay."

I'm working with him tonight for 2 hours... I'm going to have to chill the fuck out and he's going to have to man up and be a bit nicer to me.

hint: don't screw the crew.

I've only done 32 hours this weekend (Thur - Mon), which is comfortable. Monday night was an easy one, I probably only served 4 people all night and then ended with a massive bowl of chips at half price discount... hospitality isn't very conductive to health.

I worked at Bar #2 for that shift... mostly cleaning and restocking. A very quiet night indeed, as it usually is for the first few recovery days of the week. But this isn't really what I want to talk about... I want to talk about what happened afterwards.

I drove over to bar #1, my favorite job and often hangout after my shift, at probably 10:30pm. Of course I knew the manager i've been sleeping with was there.. he's always there. It's usually a pretty good bet no matter what time that he will be there. He was sitting with a regular gentleman who's usually pretty drunk and obnoxious, and one of the chef's who'd knocked off. I sat down next to the regulars while avoiding physical contact with my manager.. after all, we're not together. I didn't want him thinking I was going to overstep my bounds, although I never have in the 4 months we've been sleeping together,

I'm friendly and quiet -- I could feel the tension amongst them, it had a really somber mood. They were talking religion; and out of all 4 of us, I was the only one without faith or whom had not been Christened. This isn't the point of this story, but it does set the mood. Manager steered the conversation away from me numerous times, he knew I'm uncomfortable with the idea and took it easy. He's a nice guy. The Regular pushed the topic but Manager ended it with a simple "i've tried before."

When Manager and I were finally alone as the other two boys ducked up to grab a drink or two, I asked what he was doing later. "I'm pretty tired... pass out probably!" and I just smiled. It was nice being in his company, anyway, especially with the sombre tone. He probably wasn't used to it, usually I have a pretty aggressive temper when he turns me down.

The other boys get back and continue their conversations. I keep catching my managers eye, sitting directly across from him, and he can hold my gaze longer than I can keep his. He's strong, deep-voiced, confident and tall and built... he's a bit of an intimidating force. At one point he gets up and drops my payslips in front of me, and whispers "read them."

The conversation deepens and lingers as the alcohol keeps on coming, and the closing manager leaves us alone in the closed pub. During this, my phone vibrates... calls. My ex calling. Over and over. I turn it to silent and shove it into my pocket. Manager is looking at me, worried. Regular says "who the fuck is he, I'll break his neck." Manager smoothly says "I have an idea who it is.. good girl for ignoring it."

I get up to drop the call, and walk into the bathroom to breathe it out. I get out the payslips and a note drops out; "i'm up for it if you are... meet me later when they leave." As I get out I run into him in the hall, he must have noticed my mood drop with the phone calls. "You're staying here tonight, don't argue." He's never been so adamant. We walk back together.

As the chef leaves, and I get up to see him off. This leaves the scene as Manager, Regular and little me in a closed pub with a bottle of Jack Daniels. As I go to sit down next to Regular, he says "no honey, go sit over with (Manager). I avoided leaning back or into his shoulder, because as much as everyone knows we've been fucking, and we don't make a serious point to hide it, we don't advertise it either. Especially not the fact we're still going after his promotion. I smile and motion over to Manager, he has his arm out over the bench, and as I sit down his arm closes around me and pulls me into his chest. His fingers rub my waist and I snuggle deeper into him. Regular just watches and says "i'm enjoying this".

They talk a little about life and faith, and i'm so tired after this long week of work and work and more work i'm falling asleep on Manager's chest. Then regular says "oh, and (manager), this girl loves you." My eyes open, I press deeper against his chest, and wonder if he's going to stiffen up at those words... he doesn't.

Regular turns to me, "and you." Aah, there's that stiffening I knew would happen. Manager leans down, lips against my cheek, and whispers "sit up." I do and listen. "He's a good man, and I love him like a son. He's also a Christian man. You need to respect him and how what he believes. Be faithful to him."

"And you..." (turning to Manager) "do you love her?"
I feel him nod.
"Good, because she has a lot of love and care in her."

And that was it. From then on there was just a lot of "room 3" jokes. We called regular a cab at 2am (on a Monday night) and I re-parked Regular's and my car, and we go upstairs. He hugs me, pulling me in deep against his chest, being so much more intimate than usual. Running his fingers under the hem of my shirt and against my lower back, breathing against me. He kisses me and nuzzles his stubble against my cheek.

We get undressed, and I keep a loose cool shirt on. He holds me against his chest and says "you're going to be too hot in that.." so I sit up, smile and take it off.

He nuzzles my neck and in a deep, throaty voice says "if you find i'm hard, I'm going to fuck the hell out of you."

I reach down.
I start sucking his rock hard cock.

"Is it true?"
"Hmmm?" (from around his cock.)
"What (regular) said."
fuck.
"Which part?"
"are you.. in love with me?"
"I honestly don't know."

And we left it there.
I left in the morning in good humor.

I don't get sick of this.

First, work was lazy. I got paid for 4 hours of stealing weekly stickers from the kitchen and slapping them on my managers back while he wasn't looking, and drawing staff as animals and sticking them on the computer screen. Really. This is how bartending is sometimes in a smaller establishment; especially on a Sunday. You can only do so much.

Secondly, my (boss) called late and said he was home alone, so I drove in and sauntered into his house. His knee was wrapped and propped up, so I assumed we were not going to do much, if anything. Of course I assumed wrong and ended up between his knees pretty quickly...

That guy is a fucking champ. Big guy, all muscle and mass, and still had no problem fucking me from behind like a Spartan.

9 hour shift.

After 9 hours, I was looking forward to a romp... get a text, he'd busted open his knee.
Good on you, careful manager.

Friday nights are DJ night.

Today is Saturday morning, which, naturally, means yesterday was Friday. Friday's are generally my days/nights off, more often than not. It's my one taste of weekend. So I was pretty pumped to have a good night lined up; get dressed up, go to the gig that was on (a local band), and have a good relaxed night. Just as I'm about to go, I get a phone call. Manager of bar #1 needs someone to close with. I get there by 8 and survey the bar.

The new duty manager is there, leaning against the fridge while patrons are waiting to be served. He's ignoring them. I quickly serve everyone and snap at him, which isn't hard, the guy is 5 foot nothing and I have at least 4 inches on his hight. The OTHER managers are all 6'4" and don't slack around, but I have nothing but disdain for this guy. It's only his third shift AND he's an ex patron.

So I got to work with my boss. My lovely, fuckable boss. For the first shift since the weirdness we had after our interwork relations (ie, fucking on the bar). Casually we say our hellos, and get to work. It wasn't particularly busy, just steady all night. With a fucking terrible DJ. Drunks don't mind, though, that's the beauty of it.  I sussed out the boss, it all seemed good between us, so I was workin' with a smile on my face all night.

But I digress, let's continue on this new manager. Fucking asshole. Well, that's not true, he's just a bit clueless. He's (my boss's) replacement as (shitkicker) duty manager. He doesn't get the fuck out of your way. He doesn't keep glasses in separate trays. He doesn't clean. He doesn't wash. He sits down a lot. He doesn't FIND something to do. He talks to his mates all night. He forgets to count the tils. He's short, anything but manager material and virtually useless. I have no respect for him whatsoever, so he'd better earn it... otherwise he'll get no co-operation from me or any of the other girls. He's the most useless bar guy I've ever witnessed, I'd have trouble even seeing him as a kitchen hand. But nothing could dull my good mood; not even the one staff member I can't manage to get along with, a girl I used to work with last year in retail. She may be pretty but she's one hell of a rude little cow. But, for those aspiring to be behind the bar, this is the sort of thing you'll find yourself dreading working certain shifts for. Thankfully for me, she was in the kitchen.

The shift went smoothly, only 6 hours (til 2am). The only minor deviation from "good clean shift" was the group of footballers who came in, thankful to have finished uni no doubt. Reasonably polite until we slammed a few beers and cocktails into them, they ended up being the last in the establishment, at which point it was time for them to go and us to close. I kicked them all out and we closed the bar down. When a bar closes, staff generally hang out a bit, blast the music and get our stuff finished, then sign out and go. But last night there were a few staff and ex staff hanging around drinking after closing, so one of the ex staff members, (part of the group of said rowdy boys) slid next to me. The scene is simple"

I'm cleaning the bar and gathering beer mats. My (fuckbuddy) manager is counting tils, and the chef is talking to him. This rowdy drunk who I've never worked with slides next to me and says "hey, my friend wants to bone you." In those words. "Best of luck to him", and keep cleaning. Boss is looking my way casually checking if I'm okay with this, but this kid keeps talking. And talking. And getting ruder. My manager is getting antsy but wants to let me handle it myself, so the chef calls me over with some inaudible request for help with the computer, saving me from this drunks dribble. Manager gets him out, we lock the doors, and we're done.

The chef leaves and it's just (boss) and me. I look at him, and he knows exactly what I want. "Not tonight. I'm tired." Fuck, really?!

"You're never tired, (manager.)"
"You know I'm ALWAYS tired. Better than anyone, actually."
"... well what the fuck are you like energised?!"
"(he grins) maybe one day you'll find out."

I'm still a little concerned about where this all leaves me. After his very firm "no" 2 weeks ago, then our slip up last Saturday, I had no idea what was going on.

"What the fuck is going on?"

That should do it.
He sighs and I can really see the strain of politeness and stress on him. He wasn't just being an asshole, he was legitimately tired.

"We already spoke about this" he grunts. "No we haven't!" I quickly pipe up -- I don't wanna leave here in a bad mood, but I do want to get this sorted. "Are we on or are we off?"

"We're on. Just not tonight."

I digest this and accept it. Not happy but I can tolerate that. It's better than what it could be.

"What happened before, then? You said no now it's yes, what happened?"
"to be honest, I got sick of feeling bad about myself."

He used to like me, you know. The first 3-4 times we hooked up in my car, he'd say "I really like you", and he'd be intrigued.  But I didn't feel the same, I spilled a lot of my previous bad experiences out on him, and attraction on a deeper level was gone. Chemistry is crazy, though. Fuck.

I lean over his shoulder and whisper, sultry and quiet...

"those cameras still on?" "Yep."
"no chance?" "Nope."
"Not even if I suck your big, thick hard cock?" "Nope."
"Ride your hard dick slow and deep?" "Nope."

I smile and laugh to show I'm not going to storm off and be a bitch, a genuine smile too.

"How about tomorrow?"
"Yeah, call me."

We'll see how this goes tonight with him. Keen for it.

Afterwards, I went to the local nightclub to catch up with my favorite security guards. By now it's 3am and my second wind is kicking in, so I walk to the door and smile up at my favorite guard; a tall, built married man who plays guiiitaaar. We've had our flirt fests. On Facebook once he forgot to remove the flirting and got busted, so now we only ever talk in "real life." Spent a good hour just talking to the man and watching the (drunks I helped MAKE drunk) leave. When I was set to go for the drive home, he hugs me, and as he pulls away his hand drops to my ass and squeezes. Man, I've missed having flirt buddies.

I'm being pestered by work opportunities.

Before I got my most recent second job (which is a pain in the ass, by the way. Scheduling the shifts around one another, dealing with offended first job management, learning a new environment), I dropped my resume off to many places. Probably 6-10 in the region. 5 got back to me. I worked hard for one job, and I got it.

While I'm here; if you want a bartending job or a hospitality job, FOLLOW UP. Drop your resume off looking good and ready to go to work (girls, this means photo-ready with classy clothes, guys, this means look neat!). Call back and ask for management in a few days and say you're "just calling to follow up on your resume." Trust me on this. I got my first bartending job by turning up, looking hot and having a very very tidy resume. It wasn't particularly filled with much, but it was tidy and it looked good. On top of this, I had a good cover letter. I walked in and asked to speak to the manager, please. I was already speaking to him, so I confidently explained my position. A week later I came back through the same establishments with friends for a night out, and the same manager was on duty. I exclaimed "hire me!" and he rostered me on for 6pm Tuesday.

Not the best story to illustrate how this sort of thing works. Obviously the place has to be hiring. you don't have to be a supermodel to work behind the bar, but looks and charm help a great deal. Tidy, a great smile, and good service personality is essential. Men need charm; female patrons loved being woo'ed by the bartender. Girls need sex appeal but a "do not touch" vibe to them.  I've actually been scheduled off busy nights for flirting too much... they want girl next door, not slut on the street.

The following job was a much more regular occurrence. I saw the job posted for bar staff, and responded with a phone call (manager was not there) and an email. A week later, I applied in person looking good with a cover letter and resume. The manager was not there, so I came back later. We had a talk, and that evening I was on the roster as a trial. I started, completed my trial and was hired. This is much more typical.

Continuing on. A very classy place that mainly serves $70 meals and wine called. And called. I said i'd drop by, I didn't, and they keep calling. Even offering me emergency shifts; ie, I call when I have nothing else to do and they roster me on.

A little secret; I'm bad at wines. I like cocktails and fluorescent shooters. I can appreciate a good moscato or aged sweet red but that's about where I finish it. I'm a whiskey girl, afterall.

So I said i'd drop by on Thursday after I finish my "real job", and I'll have a talk to the elderly gentlemen who owns the establishment. Somehow I don't think I can cram in a third job.

This weeks roster..

... Is looking pretty slow. Thursday, Saturday, Sunday.

This is pretty average for a bartender, though. I'm always on call, usually getting a Friday night or odd trivia night (Tuesday). However, money wise, I'll probably bring in $450/500 this week for those three shifts, so it's not a big deal. Of course this depends on likely hours.

I actually really like Sunday shifts, no one else does. They're quiet and relaxed and I can get everything done without blowing my top. I get to work with my favorite manager. We get along pretty well. Yesterday during a slow, happy MAX audio shift, we even played scissor paper rock to see who'd get the job to clean the tables. We both cheated to try and get the job.

Thankfully this means I can polish some assignments I've been pushing off! I don't mind working long hours plus full-time study, it pays for everything, but I'd rather work than study no matter what day or time it is. I hate how tedious and undemanding study is.

Yuk.

I wonder if I can claim a Jim Beam bikini on tax.

One of my favorite parts of this job is the uniform.

My uniform for Bar #1 is pretty standard; any supported liquor/beer shirts, preferably in black, and black bottoms; in summer this can include shorts.

Bar #2 is similar, but they prefer ALL black. So Jack Daniel's shirts and shorts it is.

So, just cruisin' on eBay looking for some cheap merch. This is always good fun, even though it's just branding. I feel a bit like a walking billboard sometimes, but I don't mind advertising my favorite brands over my breasts; Corona, Jim Beam, Jack Daniel's.

Being a woman, a typical woman, I do like to look a little hot while I'm behind a bar. It's just like acting, you have to look the part. Now, even if you look like Quasimodo, behind the bar you WILL get hit on. There's something special about the woman who serves you alcohol. I have a pretty average routine for looking good for the bar; it's a little glamor, a little rockchick, all bartender.

I wear my hair loose and in long waves, in either a side or a middle part. I'm fortunate enough to not have OH&S on my ass for loose (non-tied up) hair, which is a benefit. I use a curling iron and a flat iron to get a mix of tight ringlets and big, loose Vic Secret curls. I keep my bangs straight and choppy layers. I got lucky on my natural hair colour, I'm a few shades off black and under the bar light instead of throwing chestnut or red or blue off the highlights, I throw ash, which looks very cool under the bar lights.

Makeup is simple. After a concealer and foundation, I use liquid eyeliner to rim my upper lids with decent length wings on the side. I curl my lashes and apply mascara. A little lip gloss and that's my makeup and hair done.

For pants, I'll either wear black tights (on cooler nights) or black denim shorts/Jim Beam shorts with a belt and or belt buckle.

Shoes I go easy on. Bar #2 allows heels, #1 doesn't. It's a mix of nothing special.

I keep jewelry to a minimum cos you will lose/trip/swallow them. I wear no rings, no necklaces, no bangles, only my tongue bar. I've seen girls drop jewelry into drinks. The scramble isn't worth the pain.

Oh, my favorite accessory?

Deep heat gel.
Lots of it.

r rated.

So let's go over the situation with my manager at Bar #1 a little.

When I got the job (I have him to thank for this), I thought hey, this guy isn't too bad. He's built. Check out that body. Oh baby. I bet he has a nice coc..

All while he's explaining to me the ins and outs (hah!) of the job at hand. He hired me then and there. I bet my pupils had dilated.

I offered him a lift home one night, and after spending an hour just talkin' to one another in the car, the Winter set in and me, being a shivery little girl, cuddled up to him, head in his lap. He was stroking my hair, my face, my lips.. I open my mouth a bit and his finger slips in, and I show him EXACTLY what I could be doing right now. He moans "how did we get this far?" At this point I'd have been working with him for 4 shifts.

We fucked right then and there in my car, on the main street, out the front of his house.

For two months we kept this up. At this point he was only head bartender, not part of the management team. However, two weeks ago, he called me in and revealed to me he was being promoted and that was it. No more sex. No more late night "working together after working together." I was pretty shattered, actually. Not just because I loved the thrill of my panties covering the security camera while he covered me, but because I actually liked this man. And now I have to work with him. Fuck.

He re-rosted the shifts so we don't have to work with each other. I got pissed and took up another job elsewhere. On Saturday night, after work at Bar #2, I called him. He wanted to hang out. I picked him at up 3am and we went for a drive to our regular haunts. We said very little while I was driving (too fast), until we got to the secluded dirt road. I pulled up my coupe' and shut the lights off, he wraps his arms around me and squeezes, rubbing his stubbly cheek against mine. I sunk into sooky mood and complained that he never wants to hang out now that he's not bending me over. He rubs his cheek against mine again and quietly says "I'm not dogging you. Relax.." I push back further against his chest and sigh. At this point it's been 2 weeks since we'd had "the talk" and I'd missed this. He's a big guy, he makes me feel small. It's nice. I like his stubble.

"Wanna fuck?"

Don't need to tell me twice. He kisses me and I quickly pull away and unbuckle him. All the while he's smilin' and saying "hey hey, relax! Anyone would think you missed it!"

5am, work at 9am... I dropped him home.
We haven't spoken since. Not sure how this one will end.

10 things other bartenders don't tell you.

1) swollen feet after NO break for 13 hours. You cannot get your leather waiting shoes off at the end of this sort of hell on earth. If you're lucky and no moron dropped some pints, the management might let you mop the floor barefoot.

2) the blisters, cuts and bloody nails. These come from opening cans, opening bottles and forgetting WKD's are not twist tops. Do not underestimate the pain in your thumbnail and forefinger.

3) that glasses do break and you probably will lose the tip of your thumb eventually.

4) That you will get slapped on the ass, at least once. Especially in Summer when they're "good" enough to let you wear shorts for your shift.

5) you will see, and be forced to be nice, to your ex.

6) if you're a reasonably good looking girl, the extreme pickup lines and stalking behavior you will encounter.

7) that you will learn to run on 2-4 hours sleep a night, you will have no social life outside of the bar, and your paycheck will probably be late.

8) that the old women who come in to order coffee will probably be the most tedious thing you do all day.

9) that the live music band the advertisements have been talking up all week are probably bad. Really bad. So bad that you're actually thankful that you've gone deaf from the previous 6 hours of loud music.

10) that free liquor merchandise is completely worth it.

26 hour weekend.

One 13 hour shift on Friday.
One 9 hour shift on Saturday.
One 4 hour shift on Sunday.
6 hours sleep.

I started at Bar #2 on Friday and it was completely slammed for staff. 6 of us behind the bar, all 6 working full-tilt, 3 managers on, 600 people in the bar, $2 UDL's... it was a good introduction to the new place. When you start work in a new establishment, it's a pretty easy thing to grasp. You find out where the glasses are, where the wines are, where certain spirits are, whats on tap, you figure out the till, and then you get to work. The beauty of the bar is once you know everything, it's all about repetition. You pour the same beers, make the same mixed drinks, change the same post-mix bags and kegs, clean the same bar. If you're bored and you've been pretending to wipe that Toohey's New handle for the last 10 minutes, you can help out the waitresses during dinner service and drop plates off.

So back to my weekend. You hear a lot about bartending being glamorous... well fuck you, it's not. In a seriously busy, country establishment, you will be used like a slave to get everything done. I don't even understand why Bar #2 hires cleaners, we do everything.

My trial on Friday went swimmingly. Staff liked me, I handled the pressure, I enjoy the fast-paced atmosphere. They gave me a second shift on Saturday and asked I bring in my paperwork; always a good sign.

Saturday was less busy, thank goodness, but no less hard. They put me on the roster and I started a second job, which will actually be my main. So let's break down my jobs and the pro's and cons of each establishment;

Bar #1) is a smaller but very busy on Saturday nights pub. It's a nice English style pub and the management and staff are more like family than anything. We all get along, know each others stories and keep a close eye on one another's rosters. There's very little cattiness and the work is pretty evenly distributed. Bartenders double as barbacks, waitress's/waiters, food order takers, cleaners (to a lesser extent) and this is the kind of pub that even on a Saturday night, you can have a conversation with the patrons. I like Sunday shifts there. Also, we get free merchandise -- hellloooo Jack Daniels and Southern Comfort shirts. We don't pay for soft drinks and get great discounts on the booze.

Bar #2) is a very very constantly busy country theme pub. Not a high-staff turnover but new people arrive all the time and seem to disappear. I'd probably accredit this the fact we're HEAVILY overworked; no breaks during our 8+ hour shifts. Bartenders are bartenders, that is our main job, to serve alcohol, but we also share the barback work and taking plates out when it's quiet. We do not take meals. We do not know each other or really interact with one another except trying to get out of each others way during a busy weekend. This place has high security. Staff get nearly full-time or fulltime hours. Cleaning is a huge part of the job, I don't know why they even hire cleaners, we do everything from bathrooms to mopping to sweeping to restocking the kegs.

One is my money ticket, the other I'd do for free.
It's not glamour, but it is a wealth of fun.

So let's cut to the (lemon garnish) chase here. I've been fucking my boss.

Not just a little. I've been bent over the bar, screaming his name more than once after closing.

Now, there's many disadvantages to copping a pounding from your charming co-bartender and manager. The first one is that when you are a bartender, you are also a professional flirt. I drip sex appeal when I work behind a bar, it's part of the system; boys come here, girls, you go to him. I don't want to make your martini's. I want to pour a pint of beer and smile and watch this guy think he can make it happen with the bar bitch. That's kind of our system at Bar #1. One male bartender, one female. Even split of customers. Everyone is happy. The issues are pretty thick;

1) cut shifts. He prefers not to work with you to see you flirting with others.
2) when you DO work with him, patrons recognising the fact you've been fucking.
3) "office" chortle. Har-har, chef.

I guess you're wondering what the advantages are. The advantages are just as good.

1) you get to fuck on the bar.
2) you get to fuck on the bar.
3) you get to fuck on the bar.

It's worth it. The reason why being is if you've ever worked in a high-energy environment before, constant moving, you CANNOT switch off. As soon as you hear those words "you can go now", quickly sign your name out and find yourself in the carpark, your body is still buzzing. Your mind is still churning orders. You're on full-tilt. It takes an hour or two to simmer down, OR you could just close that night and take it like a champ over the bar, probably mistaking the spillt beer on your Southern Comfort uniform for "his good job." Sex is the best simmer down.

I'm currently juggling three men. One is my ex-boyfriend, whom I dated for a year. The other is my bar manager. The last is an ageing married rockstar. A lot of the stories you'll find here are balanced on raunchy tales stemming from who I meet at these bars, as well as actual bartending stories.