Back to the floor

Writing about business trends, M&A activity and general goings on in the licensed trade as one does, it is easy to forget the nuts and bolts aspects of the sector. And there can be nothing more nutsy and boltsy than serving the customer with the drink of his or her choice in a polite manner, taking the money and giving them their change. Only I've never done it. The purchasing side of the bar has traditionally been my "position of choice" in a pub. Also, the prospect terrified me. Still does, bizarrely.

But a letter to The Publican​ from the outgoing CBI director-general Digby Jones prompted a rethink. Mr Jones had spent a day in the CBI post room in aid of the Marie Curie cancer people recently and it made him think about the "sharp end" of things, apparently.

Publican editor Caroline Nodder then suggested I do a shift behind a bar and before I knew it we'd both been "hired" to work for a day in SA Brain's Yard bar in Cardiff, in aid of the MacMillan CancerCare and kids' charity, Honeypot.

What struck me throughout my day was the attention to detail and the stuff barstaff need to take on board; knowledge of product, where it's stocked, maintaining customer service standards, technological know-how, etc.

It's like spinning plates, only crockery is easier to replace than a disgruntled pub-goer.

My day at the Yard also taught me about the dedication and professionalism of the people who run such establishments. I know service standards in pubs can often be hit or miss, but I discovered in Cardiff what it takes to do the job properly, even if I probably missed by a mile!

My thanks to assistant manager Abi and her colleagues at the Yard for their time and patience, and to Philip Lay and Scott Waddington for their encouragement. Brains kindly donated £500 to our chosen charities, meaning more than £1,000 was raised in total.

A Day In The Life Of An Amateur Barman

12.30​

Arrive at the Brains brewery with Caroline. Retail director Philip Lay takes one look at us and says we are "inappropriately dressed". Great start. Still, I reckon my jeans are cooler than Caroline's. (I think not - Ed.)

12.45​

Philip introduces us to Abi, the Yard's assistant manager. The size of the place and the lunchtime crowd in the main bar makes my stomach churn. Maybe they'll stick me in a quiet area, away from anyone who might want a drink.

13.00​

Caroline and I are asked to don blue Yard shirts plus what I can only describe as a "pinny". My heart sinks further when Abi attaches L-plates to our backs.

13.17​

Get a guided tour of the Yard, then up to a quiet first floor bar and shown how to operate the scary-looking till, the soft drinks thing - Abi calls it a "gun" - and what glassware to use. Finally I get to pull my first ever pint. Philip is impressed. Caroline has a go and I watch, my hands shoved deep in my pockets. Philip is not impressed (with the hands in pockets, not my pint - Ed)

13.30​

Abi says breezily, "OK, let's go downstairs to where you'll be working today!" I mutter about wanting to be sick. Abi laughs, then realises I am serious.

13.45​

The lunchtime crowd has faded away and I linger behind a large, cast-iron pillar in the vain hope no-one will see me. People come in and Caroline and I share the serving duties, me doing the drinks, she the money/till bit.

13.47​

Abi says I should greet punters - she calls them "guests" - with a smile and a welcome. I fear this may prove difficult.

14.00 ​

Lull continues, so Abi takes us back upstairs for lunch and an "exam", the Bronze Award Job Questionnaire. We pass.

14.30 ​

Back in the bar, Philip asks for a Bloody Mary. I look at him blankly. Get told ingredients and methodology, but it still isn't spicy enough for him. Curses.

14.33 ​

Philip then asks for a bottle of white wine, but doesn't specify what kind. Quick as a flash I thrust Brains' wine list into his hand. Impressed, he orders a bottle of Sauvignon. I can't manage the corkscrew and Abi ends up opening the bottle.

14.45​

My first solo "serve and till" experience! An elderly couple approach the bar and recalling Abi's advice, I bound over, all smiles. They ask for a pint and a half of Brains. Having served them I bound back from the till and hand them their change, still smiling. They regard me as if I've drunk from the well reserved for the village idiot.

15.00 ​

Abi watches over Caroline and myself like an anxious parent in an adventure playground. I feel like a kid. If only I looked it.

15.15 ​

Things are hotting up. A big crowd rolls in. Turns out they are Brains' managers, here for a laugh. They order lots of different drinks, but we cope.

15.30​

Philip asks for a Black & Tan. I pour half a Guinness into a pint glass. Everyone sniggers. I should have poured the bitter first, apparently.

I top up the glass with Brain's bitter. It doesn't "explode" as predicted. Looks OK to me and even Philip is impressed. Maybe I'm getting the hang

of this.

15.45 ​

Abi notices vacant tables outside have empty glasses that need clearing. Leave bar area armed with tray. Collect several glasses and load into washing machine racks. But Philip's not impressed with my "carrying technique". Christ on a bike, what does the man want?! "Splay your hand beneath the tray, don't hold it by the edge," he warns. I try it his way. It works perfectly. Curses again.

16.20​

My shoulders are aching. Am convinced arch on my right foot has collapsed. Ask Abi when we can knock off. She says 10pm. God, that's nearly six hours away.

16.45 ​

It's police payday. Am told to expect hoards of off-duty bluebottles any minute. Scary-looking bloke the size of a brick-built outdoor lavatory walks in and orders several pints of Stella. Turns out he's one of "Cardiff's finest''.

17.03 ​

Michelle and James from the office turn up to lend us moral support. I ask James for proof of his age, but don't bother with Michelle. She's not happy.

17.30 ​

Getting really busy now. Competition intensifying between Caroline and myself over who's taken most money. I'm on £153, she's on £160. Curses.

18.00 ​

Two women wonder why on earth I'm wearing an L-plate. I tell them I feel the same way, but explain. They congratulate my efforts, but stop short of buying me a drink.

18.19 ​

First brush with sarky punters. Combination of high noise levels and Welsh accents mean an order has to be repeated to me several times, culminating in "It can't be that hard!" My smile remains fixed, but I fervently hope their car breaks down when they next go on holiday.

19.00 ​

Adam from the office arrives, orders a pint of SA and proceeds to complain loudly about it, just for a laugh. One of my new bartending chums looks aghast, until I tell her that he's a colleague and just winding me up!

20.00 ​

The last hour has flown by and now I'm really getting into this. Abi says we can finish at half eight. I'm slightly disappointed.

20.27 ​

Pour my last drink - a pint of Land Of My Fathers - which is for me! Abi hisses I should be serving it in a branded Brain's glass. I hadn't even realised it was one of their beers. Recall I've served several pints of the stuff, all in plain glasses. Hey ho.

20.29 ​

Yet more curses. Caroline has beaten me in the takings' stakes - £323 vs £300 - but only because she served a big group around an hour ago that ordered half the Yard's liquor stock.

20.30 ​

C