Tracks That Built Me - Bad Girls

I’m a bartender.

I know—probably not the experience my future employers are looking for.

But let me tell you why I’ve learned more in nine months behind the bar than I ever have sitting at a desk.

It’s my college friends and me, all working at the same bar. Our boss likes to call it more of a pub vibe, and when we’re not on shift, we’re probably hanging out there anyway. My mom says it’s our own Cheers. I say it’s nice to have a place where everybody knows your name.

After working as a server, I became a firm believer that everyone should work a customer service job when they’re young. It teaches you a lot more than you’d think—patience, problem-solving, multitasking, and how to keep your cool when things go sideways.

But for me, bartending takes it to the next level. As a former nosy and chronic starer kid, I really enjoy how open people are. I’m talking about really open. They come in, order a drink, and suddenly it’s like they’re spilling their whole life story. I’ve heard everything from missing girlfriends to scuba-diving adventures to what surgeries they performed that day. I swear they trust you more than their therapist.

There’s something about being behind the bar that puts people at ease. Maybe it’s the drinks. Maybe it’s the atmosphere. Maybe it's me? No, it’s definitely the drinks. But the ability to make someone feel comfortable enough to open up? That’s a skill that translates anywhere—especially in advertising, where understanding people is everything.

It’s kind of like Bad Girls by Donna Summer. You know the song—loud, unapologetic, and full of energy. That’s exactly the vibe behind the bar. People come in ready to let loose and be themselves, even if it’s just for a few hours. And as a bartender, you’ve got to read the room and anticipate what people need before they even say it. I can pretty much guess a person’s drink the second they come in. I look at age, outfit, who they're with, even the way they carry themselves. It’s about noticing the little details—the vibe they give off—and that’s a skill that works in advertising, too. Because knowing your audience isn’t just helpful; it’s essential.

Now, the bar I work at, Dead Mule Club, has been around for 30 years, so it’s a little different than your typical college bar. It’s not exclusively college kids. The crowd shifts as the night goes on, and you have to shift with it.

At first, we have our regulars—usually older men or middle-aged couples. These are the people who walk in, and I immediately start making their order without them saying a word. They’ve been coming in for decades and never once changed their drink. It’s nice. We trust them so much that we don’t even take their card to start a tab.

Then, around 7, the millennials roll in. These are basically big kids who finally have stable adult jobs and, now, the privilege of tipping well. Most of them want an IPA. Seriously—what’s the deal with millennials and IPAs? Conversations with them are refreshing because they remember what it was like in my position, but they’ve got enough experience to offer some wisdom in return.

By 9 or 10, the college kids take over. Beware—they travel in herds. They want the cheapest drink with the most alcohol. Conversations usually revolve around gossip or drama, but honestly? It keeps me awake.

And through all these shifts—different people, different vibes, different needs—I’ve learned how to adapt, how to connect, and how to make people feel like they belong.

When I hear Bad Girls by Donna Summer now, I think about those late nights behind the bar working with my friends—the constant movement, the energy, and the unexpected connections. Donna Summer sings about women who are unapologetically themselves, making their own way in the world. And in a way, that’s what bartending has taught me, too.

The lesson I’ll take with me long after I hang up my bottle opener is this: People are most honest when they feel comfortable being themselves. And whether it’s brainstorming a campaign or pitching to a client, the ability to create that space where people feel seen and understood? That’s invaluable.

So maybe my future employers should be excited about my bartending experience after all. Because in both advertising and bartending, what you serve matters—but how you make people feel is everything.