Confessions of an Australian Bar Maid: Demographical Study - The Golden Oldies

At a recent Kenny Rogers concert held at Hammersmith Apollo a Mother (60+) burst past me through the theatre doors sans ticket to which I questioned ‘Sorry, do you have a ticket?’ – not because I thought she was sneaking in, but because a lot of people don’t know (or pretend not to know) there’s a difference between a downstairs stalls ticket (good view) and an upstairs circle ticket (bad view). Following closely behind was her daughter (30+) yelling ‘Mum, wait! They need to see your ticket!’. The Mother then turned to me and quipped ‘I do apologise! You know us old people, when they let us out we run riot. We’re worse than the kids!’. And never a truer word has been spoken.

This Mother/daughter combo were polite, funny produced their tickets and were on their way. Unlike most they actually listened to my directions to their seats and obviously found them as I didn’t see them again. But sadly this story is one of few like it. Working at a venue that doubles as a theatre means you get all manner of clientele depending on the entertainment on offer, and believe it or not an older crowd can be one of the worst. As far as they’re concerned their age gives them wisdom, experience and the right to complain about anything and everything. Chances are they’ve been to a show or 2 previously so a little knowledge of how it all works is implied and vehemently touted by said demographic. They have a tendency to strut around like they own the place, and in fact have lived there their whole lives, so heaven help you if as an usher you try to direct them to their seat or the toilet.

Being on the bar is an entirely different kettle of fish. No matter how fast you serve they always have to wait too long… ALWAYS. It wouldn’t matter if you had the 8 arms of Vishnu and beer taps for fingers, they’d still stand in front of you tutting, clucking and bitching to each other like you’re a deaf mute. ‘You just don’t get good service these days / I’ll probably die of thirst before I get a drink / She won’t even look at me / Do they know how hot it is in here?’. No, not at all, as we work our butts off running back and forth for over 4 hours. Then you must endure the actual ordering phase of the transaction. The temperature of the beer, air, lack of snacks, gassiness – or lack thereof – of the soft drinks and the price of everything on sale down to the ticket and merchandise are entirely your fault. You yourself came to work early solely to overprice everything, turn off all fridges and build extra stairs in the stairwells just to make their lives a misery. Because hearing them complain is like music to your ears. It’s the very reason you get up every day.

So never underestimate the Golden Oldies crowd as they’ve seen and done it all before. They don’t need directions, they don’t need any help and they don’t have to be polite. That is of course until the show begins and they come slinking back nice as pie with a newfound limp or sympathy strain confessing that they in fact can’t find their seat, ask you where the toilets are and to get them a drink as they’re so thirsty and old and frail. And you dutifully assist them as you should do, as they’re old and have paid their dues, and they’re now making you pay yours.