The topic of bartenders’ shitty attitudes comes up quite a bit. And, I’m the first one to point the finger at arrogant barkeeps, who barely crack a smile, and act like their doing me a favor to mix me a drink. I don’t care if they were awarded “best moustached, logo-tattooed, widely published, guru of liquid intoxicants in the entire universe” – I resent giving them money. They are the demise of hospitality by way of “cocktail culture.”At the same time, I have my good and bad nights behind the bar. Sometimes some really cool people come in,.They may or may not know a lot about cocktail culture, per se - but they want to. They are curious about mixology for the epicureal adventure it can be. Sure, sometimes they are frothing at the bit to flaunt the tid-bits of mixology they’ve picked up here and there, and want to show it off by giving me long-winded lectures about how tequila must be blue agave or some mind-blowing infusion they are doing at home (“we actually put peppers IN the vodka!”), and “have you heard of St. Germain? It’s elderberry!” to which I gently correct, “its elderflower,” while making a concerted effort not to curb their enthusiasm while making an equally concerted effort not to roll my eyes.I LOVE when someone comes in and wants an actual cocktail - classic or my creation. Its fun, and I get to be creative, and actually put my money where my big mouth is. Some nights, though, I'm just not in the mood. I'm tired or busy or preoccupied with other things. I’m just standing there out of obligation, and I’m in the mood to lazily sling some beer, crank out some Crown & Cokes and not have to clean all the damn “mixology” bar tools at the end of my shift. I don’t feel like trying to impress anyone with a “make me your best cocktail” request. And when I’m in that space, I just want to hide out in the kitchen until these novice know-it-alls leave. Yes, I’m ashamed to admit, I do have nights like that, once in a while.However, when I allow myself to self-indulgently get into that rotten, ungrateful space, I stop for a minute, slap that snarky inner bitch in the face, and snap to the fucking program.I was one of those people once upon a time. When I started blogging in 2006, I wanted to try everything, and I wanted to share what I’d learned. I was hoping to impress a bartender I admired, and someone who acted like an authoritative muddler-swinging asshole had the power to ruin my night. They also had the power to empower me to continue my explorations - and spend my hard-earned cash in their establishments, and beyond. Now that I’m in a position – by way of bartending or books or classes – to encourage others in their journey, it is my duty to respect their curiosity. Its ALL of our bartending duty to be both kind and encouraging to our customers who are excited about what we do. Without them, our jobs have no purpose.After all, THESE people are the reason I sit my ass down in front of my computer for hours, days, months – whether writing a blog post, a magazine article or a cocktail book. When I’m thinking of things to share in a video or TV appearance, I’m remembering what these folks have asked me about when they visit me in the bar. I LOVE these people. They guide my work. I learn from them. On top of it, they actually appreciate the homemade ingredients I toil over at home and bring to the bar or an event. And, I appreciate that.I know its sounds sappy, but I am 100% sincere when I say that I actually get a bit choked up when I think about folks that are excited about a drink I make “just for them” or who shyly ask me to sign a book – my book that they actually bought. They spent time and money to seek out my services or read something I wrote!! Are you fucking kidding me? That is incredible and humbling, and seriously makes me want to shed a tear because I’m so touched by it. I feel like Sally Field when she got that Oscar --- “you like me, you really like me!” And, from the humble bottom of my true inner self, I bow at their feet, and give thanks for these people. They make me want to be better, learn more and figure out more ways to share the awesomely fantastic things that get me excited about mixology.It goes beyond hospitality, where graciousness should be expected. Its more a question of humanity. Of humility. Of shared moments. And, appreciating that someone, besides your mother, is happy that you exist. Its pure validation, and mutual encouragement between the bartender and the customer, when you think about it. I’m sharing this stream-of-thought because its important that we all note that it is not only our job, as bartenders, to give someone as dazzling an experience as we can, it is also our duty as human beings to be respect others, especially when they are respecting us.Sometimes, a customer walks into a bar. And, that customer can make me feel that the years, dollars and time that I’ve invested into my career is actually worthwhile.