Talk in a Straight Line
Written By Miles Klind
“Booo!” rang out from a single voice as a man in a tattered denim jacket rushed off the stage and out the front door of the bar. The bartender who made the loud outcry, Nate, chuckles from a dimly lit corner behind the bar and a said, “Fuck that guy! Every week he comes in here, does his shit on stage, and leaves without buying a drink.”
Lit primarily by a warm red glow from an old neon Budweiser sign that illuminates the quiet bar, Luckey’s Cigar Club is located downtown Eugene, Oregon. Every Tuesday, the bar hosts an open mic night where comics of various calibers workshop material while patrons sip cocktails and beer. Week after week, bartenders get a glimpse into the lives of the people that fill the stools.
Nate has been working as a bartender at Luckey’s since May of 2020. Since that time, he has learned the dynamic requirements of the occupation. Besides mixing drinks, customer service and humor are a must for bartenders and are skills that he has honed through his time at Luckey’s.
“Humor is just tragedy from far away,” Nate said. His humor helps him connect with his regulars. Often, he notices that the people who fill the stools at the bar radiate solace. “Sadness, I recognize that in a lot of people.” He also said that most of the people he was referencing were men.
“Men are much more willing to engage in conversation with me,” said Nate. “Some guys are just happy to talk to anyone.” Bartenders are expected to take on the therapist’s role for their clients.
When asked about how personal the conversations with the regulars at the bar were, Nate said, “They are always respectful, but they just seem to want to vent to someone.” From these conversations, people form a relationship with their bartenders.
Tim Gaddy, age 24, is on a first-name basis with the bartenders at Luckey’s. At times he does not go in to drink. Instead, Mr. Gaddy enjoys the atmosphere, the people, and “their lovely nonalcoholic ginger beverages.”
Outside the drinks, the people that mix them are much of the draw. Mr. Gaddy said, “I like talking to Nate because he’s smart can actually carry a conversation forward.”
Every Tuesday, there is the added benefit of the comedy routines. Mr. Gaddy often comes so often he recognizes when the comics are recycling material. “That joke would’ve been funny if he hadn’t closed with it the last ten weeks in a row.”
Tim Gaddy discussed his deep appreciation for Luckey’s and bars in general. “I started working at Bulldog grill and pub in Monera, California, right after I turned 20,” said Mr. Gaddy. He did every job, from a dishwasher to a cook to a bartender. “I grew up in a bar. In the first week, I figured out I was gay; my coworkers helped set me up with my first boyfriend.”
The sense of community is what keeps Mr. Gaddy continuing to frequent small dive bars like Luckey’s. ‘You see more than your life happen here; you get to see everyone’s lives happen,” said Mr. Gaddy. “It’s a communal thing.”
In the spirit of community, Jordan Hurley, Tim Gaddy’s roommate, can on occasion be found at the counter of Luckey’s. While not frequenting the establishment as often, he still likes to walk downtown and order a “sweet-tart” vodka cocktail on his days off work and chat with strangers.
Mr. Hurley recalled a time when he was being sarcastic with a different bartender; this was met with his roommate cutting in to shut down the joking banter. “Tim says I don’t know them like that.” While the encounter Mr. Hurley described seemed entirely light-hearted and well-intended, it is interesting to consider when bar-goers might unknowingly cross a line with the bartenders.
Joran Hurley described the struggles he has confidently socializing due to his gender. “I’m a trans-man,” said Mr. Hurley. “I’m just trying to relate.” In pursuit of this goal, he goes out and strikes up a conversation with the bartenders and enjoys a few cocktails.
“I drink away the struggles of being trans,” Mr. Hurley said sarcastically. Still, he admitted to struggling to find confidence in his appearance and added that bars often provide tremendous social pressure. “I feel like I have to put on a show, just to be perceived as how I identify,” said Mr. Hurley. “Most cis-guys walk into a bar, and no one questions if they are a guy.” However, Jordan noted that the bartenders and regulars at Luckey’s always make him feel welcome.
Quinn Garrick is one of the newer bartenders at Luckey’s. She started in November. She said that she had noticed a noticeable difference in how men at the bar talk to her as a bartender compared to other occupations. “Sweety, baby, honey, you wouldn’t say that shit to a pizza delivery woman.”
She recognized that she comes off as very approachable to the regulars. I’m a gay woman; I guess I’m just less threatening.”
Despite the occasional unwanted sexual innuendo, Ms. Garrick enjoys the environment Luckey’s cultivates. “It feels good to be a part of lifting the voices of people who might be marginalized and provide a safe space for people.
Mrs. Garrick also noted that most of her encounters at the bar were with men. “The old guys that are the regulars here… they make me feel safer.” But, of course, the regulars are just one perk of her job.
Ms. Garrick left a job in office administration to come to bartend. “I had to go for what I wanted.” That journey landed her bartending at Luckey’s Cigar Club and regularly chatting with almost everyone who walks in the door. “It’s super relaxed; I love it!”
