Adult
26
Male (He/Him)
Pansexual
Married
Bar Owner
Pureblood
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Post by BISHOP COSTA on Oct 12, 2016 18:06:16 GMT
[attr="class","yall"] Bishop groaned and wiped his hand down his face, trying to hide his complete disappointment in the choices his team had made at the interviewees. He had made the instructions simple. Fine someone who was able to work the club, be it on the tabes or behind the bar, and also able to work a little extra in their down time. Bishop hadn't got to where he was - the owner of a very successful business and part of the town's growing drugs scene - by employing wishy-washy morons who couldn't tell a glass from a gun. Okay so they hadn't been that bad, but they had been pretty awful. Awful enough that Bishop hadn't even asked about their out of work activities.
Ebrius was tucked away down a side-alley, but that didn't seem to deter the amount of men and women who sought out the refuge of the club. It invited people from all walks of life and while the dress code suggested the club was a little on the elitist side, Bishop tried not to make anyone feel alienated. From magic to no-maj. Though some would try and convince themselves that the two never mixed.
Coming from a pureblood family, Bishop had been forced into lectures about the purity of magic and how it should never be mixed with the...others. But he had gone his own way and had no issue with no-maj's, as long as they did the job he was paying them to do.
Sitting on top of the table he picked up the next form. Tobias Kingston. Bishop's eyebrow rose. From the name he sounded like a posh boy, and posh boys were not Bishop's cup of tea. No matter who they tried to convince otherwise.
Next, he said, his tone of voice suggesting he wasn't holding his breath. He smiled formally as the door opened and the next guy walked in. Bringing his suit jacket together, Bishop buttoned up the middle button expertly with one finger as he gave the kid a once over.
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Male (He/Him)
Single
No-Maj
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Post by TOBY KINGSTON on Oct 12, 2016 19:35:09 GMT
[attr="class","imageA"] The seconds had liquefied, blurring with the minutes, dragging on ‘till Tobias was sure the clock had died. His dark eyes traced over the interior of Ebrius, lingering on the shadows tainting the walls and the decor. Around him were a few others, dressed and ready for an interview much like him, but he avoided joining in on some of the idle chit chat as they waited. Fellow applicants were his competitors, and he wasn't about to fake nice when they were all up for the same position. His phone buzzed in his pocket, causing him to fidget in surprise, and a brush of heat inflamed the rise of his cheekbones as the one nearest him glanced over. He hastened to retrieve it from his pocket, but it vibrated again. He flipped it open, his fingers fumbling on the intolerable object, and glanced at the name, “Douchebag”. A grim coldness set into his stomach as he recognized the so-fondly nicknamed caller. His father, of course. Probably calling to ask for money or groceries or some form of handout... Fighting back a scowl, Tobias jammed his finger against the ominous red button and severed the contact between he and his father. He held the button a little longer ‘till it shut down, which he thought he had done previously. He could only imagine how horrible a disaster would have occurred had he neglected to do so once his interview had started. This club didn't look to be as lax as some, and he doubted it would make for a good impression no matter the excuse. He needed this job, not for anything more than a cover up and a place to offer him potential clientele for whatever jobs he could take on the streets. That was much more his speed the unlawful activities, but without having a real on-the-books job it would be hard to explain the random influxes of cash he sometimes brought in. Besides, he liked bartending, as much as he didn't like people. Playing nice with strangers was better than making actual friends, and it did help with his practically nonexistent morals that he was making some of his money the right way. “Next.”Tobias shifted on a mask, one that had a winning smile, warm eyes, but not without absence of his rough edges. He wouldn't appear too enthusiastically bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, but it was perhaps best to keep his 'hate everything at most point' attitude. His eyes roamed over the doorknob as he reached out for it and turned it, feeling his insides twinge with apprehension, but he wouldn’t let it show. "Hello, how're you?" Ugh, manners and what The dress code and somewhat uppity appearance told him to stick with it. Rudeness wouldn't win him anything. He looked over Bishop curiously without his smile faltering. He reached out his right hand for a formal handshake. "Tobias Kingston- prefer Toby but I'll leave what you call me up to you. It's a pleasure to meet you."
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Adult
26
Male (He/Him)
Pansexual
Married
Bar Owner
Pureblood
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Post by BISHOP COSTA on Oct 12, 2016 20:39:06 GMT
[attr="class","yall"] Bishop sat skeptical for a moment, glancing over the man in front of him. He took another quick look at the piece of paper with Tobias' details. Toby. He noted that the man was only a year younger than himself. That always counted for something. If someone was too old or two young they often didn't understand what Bishop was trying to say to them. But then again, everyone had ideas on how the bar should be run.
Finally, after what seemed like ten minutes though it was really only a few seconds, Bishop reached out his hand to shake Toby's. He had a firm grip, good and he was polite - Bishop got the feeling it wasn't entirely all sincere. But he didn't mind, the effort was there and it was appreciated. He finally let go of the other man's hand and indicated for him to sit in a chair opposite the desk Bishop was sat on. It was a small office, but bright. With television screens at the back of the room, where Toby had entered from, like Bishop's own little security system. From the screens he could see most of the club. The dancers, the patrons and the bar staff - some nights they all merged into one.
Behind Bishops' desk was a wall of files, something he tried to avoid looking at. It had all the names of the members and a few other bits of information that wasn't available to just anyone. To the left of the desk was a plain wall with a notice board on it, covered in posters displaying theme nights or vip competitions from months passed. It looked like it hadn't been updated in a while, and honestly Bishop didn't have time to anymore. On the remaining wall was a huge window looking down onto the dance strip and the tables. From the office you could see everything going on, but from down below the window was too dark to see into. Private enough to make things interesting.
Toby, Bishop began, testing the name on his tongue. It was easy to remember, though just as easy to forget. I take it you understand the responsibilities of a member of my staff? he asked, interlocking his fingers and resting them on his knee. You have done bar work before, haven't you?
He didn't mind too much if Toby hadn't seen a bottle in his life. As long as there was a willingness to learn, Bishop had a willingness to teach.
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No-Maj
25
Male (He/Him)
Single
No-Maj
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Post by TOBY KINGSTON on Oct 17, 2016 19:15:31 GMT
[attr="class","imageA"] There was a pause in their interaction, and Tobias normally wasn't the sort of exaggerate minor details but it was long enough that he already felt he'd blown his first impression. Fortunately, he wasn't one to let nerves bog him down or turn him into a flustered mess. His smile was unfaltering, and he kept his hand out until it was, at last, taken and given a shake. He appraised the firmness of it, being one to judge another based on the strength behind their hand shake. So far, so good with his potential employer. Bishop was a man of few words, but Toby had no complaints about that. He kept just as quiet when he was silently offered a seat in front of the desk the interview would be conducted at. But while his mouth was shut he was making mental notes on all the visuals around him. From the cork board to the seurity t.v.'s and even to the tattoos on Bishop's face, neck, hands- everywhere. He tried not to look too easily distracted, avoided the wonder-filled appearance of a child while he took in all the details he could. Toby straightened his posture at the sound of his name now at full attention. His brows pinched at the question. "I understand the responsibilities as a bartender, if that is what you're asking." He'd never wandered into Ebrius before, he didn't know what to expect, which was typical for his job hunting. He didn't go anywhere where he was familiar with the patrons either to avoid fires he started or to expand his clientele. Unfortunately, that did mean he never knew what any job expected of their employees. "If given the opportunity to work under you then I'd be willing to learn how you expect us to run your bar. Not every manager is the same, but I know the basics like the back of my hand." Which was an honest answer. Who knew what standards he would have to meet once he clocked in? He avoided cynically tacking on something about spewing hypocritical bullshit that would contradict what actually happened once you were hired. He would learn, whatever it may be, and he would adapt as he needed to. It was what made him who he was.
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Adult
26
Male (He/Him)
Pansexual
Married
Bar Owner
Pureblood
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Post by BISHOP COSTA on Oct 17, 2016 19:32:33 GMT
[attr="class","yall"] Bishop nodded at the answer, a smile appearing softly on his face. Toby didn't really seem like the type of person to go into Ebrius - though Bishop had seen all sorts of people hanging around. Not all of them made it past the front door though, mostly because they were wearing the wrong clothes but people were also turned away if they were too drunk or even if Bishop just didn't like the look of them.
I'm not sure how much you know of Ebrius, but I'll cover the basics, Bishop began, sliding off the table and moving around to the other side so he could sit opposite his potential employee. Grabbing the draw of his desk he pulled it open slowly and pulled out a piece of paper that gave an overview of the entire building. From the tables and catwalk for the dancers, the bar area both in the front of house and the back store rooms to the secret passageways running through the building for quick access for dancers and waiters and the VIP rooms for the more private meetings.
We are first and foremost a gentleman's club, Bishop began, sliding the paper towards Toby. We accommodate all kinds of people, though the usual cliental are rich business men who have too much money. There are currently fourteen dancers, eleven waitstaff and two bar staff. If you get the position you would be the third. We also have a house band who come in on a Monday, Thursday and Friday.
Sitting back he pressed a button and suddenly the door opened. Would you like a drink? he asked indicating for Toby to give his order to a young man who had just walked in.
On average we hold three-hundred clients a night, obviously Friday nights and Saturday nights we push five-hundred. The hours can be long: Sunday to Thursday it's from eight till one, Friday and Saturday we go from seven till about three. You get an hour break and if you work overtime you accumulate a pot of hours which you can take whenever there's a chance. So say you work an hour extra on a Saturday you can finish an hour earlier on a Tuesday, for example. Or come in an hour later.
Any questions so far? he asked, leaning back in his chair and crossing his hands into his lap.
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No-Maj
25
Male (He/Him)
Single
No-Maj
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Post by TOBY KINGSTON on Oct 17, 2016 22:04:10 GMT
[attr="class","imageA"] One eyebrow rose in a questioning manner as toward Bishop's curiousity about Toby's knowledge of Ebrius, but as he continued on he was glad to not have to provide an explanation. Word of mouth would've been his answer, but it was from some distant family that he talked to briefly before -the magic sort. Being a son of a squib with absolutely no magical prowess whatsoever, it sometimes escaped his mind that those with such abilities existed... and by slipped his mind, I mean it was tucked away elsewhere in his head where he didn't have to think or worry about it. Bishop reminded Toby a bit of a feline as he moved, but it might have only been the elegant air about him. He wasn't just some rough looking scruffy man who ran a dive bar on the bad ends of town. The money had to be good for the employees if the guests had a dress code. A piece of paper was presented, a blue print almost, of the layout, and Toby leaned forward, less stiff looking and more languid with the slight slouch of his shoulders while he briefly scanned it over. "A gentleman's club?" Toby's dark eyes shifted up while the realization twisted a wry line in his smile 'til it was hooked between a smirk and a grin. "Establishments with a dress code normally bring in the wealthier class..." He smiled, but inwardly he did cringe. A little. He never did well around folks with money. Too snobbish, entitled... he liked to kindly remind them that their shit did indeed stink, when he was allowed to. While employed he would have to keep his mouth shut unless for good reason, and he would have to keep his hands from slipping into pockets as much as he was sure he could cover rent just by swiping just a couple of wallets. When Bishop called someone in with the simple press of a button, Toby glanced over at the door with curious doe eyes. Ebrius definitely was too upscale of a place for him to have visited without the prospect of a job. Didn't mean he didn't like it... "Just a water is fine." He nodded, looking to the new man in the room and then back to Bishop. All of what he said didn't deter him from wanting employment. Some of the tinier bars he worked at barely had more than forty people in it at once... he doubted he worked anywhere that broke a hundred people at the same time. It would be a lot of work, but the thing about Toby was that he liked worked. At the concluded statement Toby shrugged, not too languidly as he caught himself and hadn't meant to, and simply asked, "When can I start?"
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Adult
26
Male (He/Him)
Pansexual
Married
Bar Owner
Pureblood
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Post by BISHOP COSTA on Oct 19, 2016 8:47:20 GMT
[attr="class","yall"] Bishop eyed the other man as he ordered his drink. Water. It was safe, sure. Especially for a job interview. Bishop appreciated someone who took the simple choice. His last interviewee had asked for one of the most expensive drinks Ebrius had to offer. That was the wrong lasting impression. But Bishop had already known that guy wasn't the one he was looking for. He was confident about Toby. Confident enough that he had already shown him the blueprint. Not many people were allowed to know where the passages were.
As his assistant returned with their drinks - Bishop had himself an elderflower cordial, with ice. Water was too plain. But Bishop only tended to drink alcohol with clients, just so he could get them drunk and spend all their money. He nodded a thank you as the drinks were put on the desk, on in front of Toby and one in front of Bishop. The young man bowed and turned to leave, but Bishop simply rolled his eyes.
That's Oliver. He's a little shit, don't listen to anything he says, Bishop said, though there was a hint of fondness in his voice, indicating that the bow was completely unnecessary.
Getting to his feet he picked up his glass; taking a sip he moved back to Toby's side of the desk, perching on the edge. He couldn't help but smile at Toby's question. The boy was eager, that was for sure.
Well, you'll have a trial first, one month. If you can survive that, you can keep the job, he said simply, taking another sip of his drink before putting it back down again.
But I need to know how you'll handle yourself. Some of our patrons are entitled, most of them are rude and almost all will flirt their way into getting free drinks. You'll also need to learn as many as you can for their individual orders - mostly the VIP rooms. The other barmen will help you but they won't give you all the answers. We are a family here, but if they think they can get more money off a patron than you can, they'll take them off your hands.
Getting to his feet Bishop walked towards the door, indicating for Toby to follow and to bring his drink if he wanted. Standing in front of the door he waited for Toby to catch up before a smirk appeared on his face. And don't forget, you said you wanted an opportunity to work under me, he said quietly raising an eyebrow. I'm looking forward to that becoming a reality.
With that he opened up the door and headed to the stairs, going down to the main floor.
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Single
No-Maj
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Post by TOBY KINGSTON on Oct 23, 2016 16:28:38 GMT
[attr="class","imageA"] Toby said nothing about the way the young man returned, presented their drinks, and then left with a bow. He would've questioned it if he thought it was a bit much, but maybe Ebrius was higher class than he originally assumed. That was his best guess until Bishop told Toby is his own words that Oliver's show was just that: a show. It provoked a smirk in the young man as he took one more brief side-glance to the door Oliver disappeared out of. Toby looked back with amusement. "So I don't have to take a bow everytime I make a drink is what you're saying?" He did wonder if Oliver was the type to give new hires a hard time. Bishop did warn him, but not in a serious enough way that Toby feared whatever stupid little initiation process the employees could cook up for their own fun. Toby could fire right back if that was their game, which he hoped they would find fun in that just for the sake of having coworkers who didn't walk around with sticks up their asses. A trial month sounded odd to him. Most jobs had training days, not an entire month of them just to test you out. Teach you then keep you on a probation period... maybe that was Bishop's way of saying just that. Toby wasn't as nervous about it as he was curious. People were people, every bartender dealt with endless pain in the ass patrons. He wasn't sure what the standards of his service were going to have to meet, but time would teach him that. "I think working in a bar before has given me plenty of practice dealing with the overly self-entitled and learning people and their usual. It's just another part of the job." He took a sip of his water. It wasn't as easy as he said it, the learning part. Dealing with pricks was, however, as he'd just probably (breaking rules in the process) charge top shelf for well booze, or dip the tops of straws in straight liquor to make the drink taste stronger when a customer complained it was all ice cubes and mixer. He wouldn't say that part out loud, it wasn't like he was there to scam people out of money. Just, maybe, secretly teach assholes a lesson. He looked up to his future boss perched on the corner of the desk, expression unphased. He was in countless bars and taverns, he knew how fast cash turned a team of people into instant competitors. "It's the nature of the job. We're a team, but we all need money. I understand that." But Toby had no doubt he'd have his own group of regulars, or make his money regardless of the nature of the business. Toby was on his feet after Bishop, water in his left hand, and his right hand smoothing out a couple of wrinkles from his button-down that formed while he sat down. Fuck, if he knew how to iron his clothes would probably hold up better without creasing. He was only mildly distracted before he was addressed again, and Toby eyed that smirk curiously. His lips parted as he wanted to ask if there was something else behind that statement other than the reference to being hired, but his bit back his words. Toby was probably just jumping to conclusions again. He decided to completely change his train of thought with a completely different question. "What's the required uniform? And the set-up time before your shift?"
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Adult
26
Male (He/Him)
Pansexual
Married
Bar Owner
Pureblood
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Post by BISHOP COSTA on Oct 23, 2016 17:07:10 GMT
[attr="class","yall"] Toby seemed like he knew what he was doing. Seemed like the type of person that Bishop would want working for him. Usually there was a red flag or two by now, but nothing had come up so far. Maybe as Bishop gave a tour something would strike him. But there was no telling at the moment. Toby seemed to be giving all of the right answers, but Bishop wasn't sure if that was because he wanted the job or because he actually meant it. Or both.
He began the decent down into the main room, passing photos of dancing girls - and boys - on the wall to the stairs. They all had their stage names written underneath and their performance days. Bishop paused halfway down the stairs to answer Toby's question. There will be a suit for you in the changing room - I'll show you that in a bit - at the beginning of the night you'll change into it and at the end of the night you hang it back up in your locker and it will be washed and pressed for the next day. Shoes are also provided if you need them and if you leave them they will be polished or cleaned. I know some people like to wear their own shoes for comfort, so anything black, canvas or leather I don't mind.
Continuing down the stairs he walked around the back of the main stage towards the bar. It stretched practically from one end of the room to the other, stacked with bottles of all varieties. There were drinks there that were replaced almost every night and some that had never even been opened. At each end of the bar there were six bar stools, black and silver. But the entire middle section of the bar was open to give people the maximum space to stand and order. Bishop stood in the centre gap, resting his elbow on the bar and turning towards Toby.
So most people just come to the bar and order. If they are a basic member they have a silver card and they wait and collect. If they have a gold card they get a ticket and a waitress takes their drinks. A platinum member will usually be in a vip room and a waitress will come to you with their order. No matter what you are doing, you do the platinum orders first. Even if a silver card has been waiting. Bishop turned and looked out onto the main floor. The stage covered most of the centre of the room, but there were about twenty tables surrounding each with a silver pole through the middle.
As well as a barman, you are also the eyes on the floor. If someone gets a bit handsy or there looks like there's going to be trouble, there's a set of buttons on the other side of the bar. If you press one it will either get my attention or the attention of the security. I don't care how well you make a cocktail, or how quickly you can pull a pint. I do care, however, that I can trust you with the protection of my dancers. Do you understand?
Bishop treated his staff with the respect they needed. The respect they deserved. He knew them all by name and by their history. He wanted them to feel safe at work, and wanted them to enjoy coming in. Not for them to come in because it was their duty or because they had no choice. He often took their needs in above the profits of the club. With a soft smile he pressed a hand to Toby's shoulder, indicating for him to keep following. Towards the back of the room at the end of the bar was two doors. One marked toilets and one marked staff only. Walking to the staff door Bishop pulled a keycard from his jacket pocket and pressed it to the keypad. With a beep and a click the door swung open into a large common room. There were couches, a television, a stereo and a pool table.
This is for your breaks, the room is completely sound proof so you can't hear what's going on out there and no one can hear you. Bishop pointed to the doors scattered around the room.
Red doors are bar doors - the one with the star is the one that leads to the bar and the other door leads to the bar store room. Blue doors are for dancers - the star is the door onto the stage and the plain door is to the dressing room. Green is for musicians and as you can probably guess the star is for the stage and the plain is for their store room. The gold door leads to the VIP rooms upstairs and the black door leads straight to my office. Any white doors go downstairs into the basement so you can move around the building without having to go through the main floor. I know it seems pretty complicated, but you'll get used to it. You only really need to worry about the white doors and the red doors.
Walking towards the red door with the star he pointed to the glass in the doors. All staff doors have mirrored glass so you can see out but no one can see in, that includes the windows in my office - if you saw them. I think that's most of the information, he said softly, realising that sometimes working at the club could be an information overload.
Bishop moved and indicated for Toby to take a seat on one of the couches while Bishop took a seat on the one opposite. So, tell me Toby, why have you applied for this job? And be honest, I can spot a liar.
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