Ah, the term "mixologist"—the artisanal, handcrafted, small-batch title that’s shaken, not stirred, into today’s bar scene. As someone who’s spent four decades perfecting the art of pouring drinks and listening to patrons' woes, I can tell you: calling yourself a mixologist is like wearing a tuxedo to serve hot dogs.
Bartending is a craft honed through years of sticky counters, late-night shifts, and the occasional bar fight. It's about knowing your regular's favorite drink before they do, handling a Saturday night rush with the grace of a ballet dancer, and having a sixth sense for when someone needs to talk or be left alone. A true bartender is part psychologist, part entertainer, and part swift-handed alchemist.
Enter the "mixologist," armed with obscure bitters and a repertoire of cocktail names longer than a CVS receipt. While they’re busy setting their citrus peels on fire, the seasoned bartender has already served half the bar, cracked a joke, and settled a debate over the best '80s rock band. As one industry professional aptly put it, "A mixologist is just a bartender who's being arrogant and wants to make themselves feel or sound more important by calling themselves something else."
Now, let's talk about the corporate suits—the clipboard-wielding overlords who decided that what the bar scene really needed was a facelift. These are the folks who've never muddled a lime but have plenty of experience muddling a good time. They waltz in with their spreadsheets and flowcharts, pushing out the veterans who built the bar's reputation one pour at a time.
In their quest for the next big thing, they’ve traded genuine hospitality for gimmicks, replacing seasoned pros with "mixologists" who can tell you the molecular breakdown of a Negroni but can't remember a regular's name. It's like firing the chef who knows everyone's favorite dish and hiring someone who can only make foam sculptures.
So, to the patrons out there: when you find a bartender who knows their craft and treats you like family, appreciate them. And to the corporate decision-makers: remember that a bar's soul isn't in its trendy cocktails but in the people who serve them with a smile, a story, and maybe a bit of snark.
As Deadpool might say, "I'm like Robin Hood. I rob from the rich and give to the needy. I just happen to be needy."
In this case, the rich are the corporate suits, and the needy are the patrons craving genuine human connection over a well-made drink.
So, here's to the bartenders—the real superheroes of the bar scene.
Dan Andrews
The Bartenders Guide