Working at Skite Wednesday is everything I ever dreamed

No one has been sick on me… yet

There are many tortures we face at uni – running out of SAAS significantly before its due, having to do laundry, trying to find something to eat on hungover weekdays.

But none elicit a reaction of disgust as much as the idea of being sober in a club.

But this is a common occurrence for those who work in nightclubs.

For us workers, there are a whole new list of dreads that won’t have crossed your mind unless you’re the one behind the bar.

Ripping off those badges of honor is actually a ritual

Ripping off those badges of honor is actually a ritual

At the bar

Working at Aberdeen’s busiest and best club is ideal, but the act of being a bartender has its pitfalls.

The clientèle at the beginning of the night use waving, clicking and yelling to try and get served.


When it reaches their turn, I would happily bet my tips every night the words to follow will be: “Whats your cheapest shot?”

By 1am, a procession of sloppy humans begin to drape themselves across the bar asking for glasses of water before dropping their head to the bar while they wait.

Unreligious as I am, in those seconds I am forced to pray they won’t spew before can I give them their water.


There is the baffling moment that occurs at least once a night, when a guy leans over and drunkenly mumbles “But thats just £1 for me, right doll?”.

Through their eyes it must be charming.

The mopping up

If the bathroom has flooded, you can be guaranteed that after filling your bucket, a drunk person will stumble in and knock it over. And that drunk person is usually one of your best friends.


The alternative is that you see someone has thrown up and you despairingly walk back to the bar and pick up the sick bucket and mop. Yes: there is a bucket and mop labelled sick.

The cloakroom

The most frustrating place to work by far is the cloakroom.

When a completely trolleyed person stumbles up having lost their tickets and says the words “it’s a black leather jacket”, and are then too far gone to pick up on your disgruntled expression.

They then proceed to claim I would be a total “babe” if I give them their jacket, which, by the way, is not the advised way to get any of your belongings back.


Really, you are just slowing down the procedure, my friend.

And yes, you do have to wait until the end to get your jacket.

The aftermath

Once the club closes at 3am and the procession of drunk people stagger to McDonalds, us workers still have a couple more hours of clubbing time- cleaning up.

Restocking fridges with endless bottles of VK means that a manicure only lasts as long as the days between shifts. Wiping down every surface in the bar means that you are covered in Jäger, Tequila, Sambuca and VK.



Otherwise, working in a nightclub does have perks.

Tips can range from 50p a night up to £20+ if you happen to serve someone drunk enough to tip that amount (usually on Skite Wednesday’s after multiple VKs), or are working on the VIP bar.

And stumbling through my door around 5am, after not a single drop of alcohol, but due to pure exhaustion, I can guarantee the following day will be just as unproductive for me as it is for those who I was serving the night before.