An ode to Mrs. Meagher.

Integerity. This is the word that I have been living for over the last few months as I open up Driftwood Kitchen, my newest endeavor on H Street. Every time I make a move or a hire or a decision, I bring that word to the front of my mind. Integrity.

I mention this to tell you about my staff. I have had the great fortune to have met, over the years, hundreds of talented people within the restaurant industry. I was able to hire a bunch of them to work with me at Driftwood Kitchen. Unlike most other situations, I trust these people. I have either worked with them before or have worked with someone who can vouch for them. And I have taken my keys off of my belt. Let me explain why.

When I was in 6th grade, I had a teacher named Mrs. Meagher. Admittedly I haven't seen her in over ten years and have no idea if she is still around, but she would be proud none the less. I learned a few things from that wonderful woman when I was younger. I learned that the "meanest" and "grumpiest" people are often the kindest and most compassionate. I learned that Sun Tzu is useful for daily life, and to "pretend inferiority and encourage his arrogance." I learned that if you love your job that you must commit to it with every step.

"Oh my god, those keys are so annoying. You sound like a 90's janitor," Bear said to me a few days ago. I chuckled because my keys annoy everybody, me included. I hadn't been wearing them in Driftwood because I hadn't felt like I needed them. I'm pretty quick to give away my tricks to the trade because no amount of tricks can make up for good hard work, but it's always sound to have an angle to keep people you don't know honest. Let's go back a bit.

Imagine me as the popular kid in elementary school, surrounded by friends because I am the coolest kid in the entire school. Hard, right? Because I was a loser. Let's try that again.

I'm the tall gangly kid with the Dumbo ears and ridiculous hair cut in the top left of the photo. I got picked on. A lot. In this photo I'm with the Burke family down the street, that would later become my second set of brothers, sister, and parents. I'm on the top left, next to Zach, holding up Matt and with Carly. I love these people like I love my own family because that is what they are. Still. Not featured is Mrs. Burke, Cheryl, and Mr. Burke, whose first name I still dare not say. He is still Mr. Burke. 

Imagine at this age going to school. Mrs. Meagher was the scariest teacher in the entire school. We would line up at the top of the stairs, and somehow from the bottom, if you were goofing around, Mrs. Meagher could bellow your first name up the stairs and you would immediately snap to attention. When I was 17 I visited school to say hello to her. I asked her how she always knew when we were up to no good, and she said, "I would always ask the night staff to polish the tile in the stairwells extra shiny. At the right angle, you could see the reflection up the stairs. When you're dealing with kids you have to know all the angles."

I never forgot this. I started wearing my keys on my hips on a carabiner because I always had trouble remembering them. When I got into the restaurant industry, my staff would always joke that they knew I was coming because you could hear me coming from the jingling of my keys. All of this was on purpose. For the first few months I would always have my keys on me so that my presence was announced. Then I waited until everyone was comfortable, and I would take my keys off. Now coming around corners you never knew if I was there or not. Suddenly they would realize this and be on their best behavior at all times. I would alternate keys on or off during the shift and it kept everyone honest.

I have hired easily the most talented staff I have ever worked with. Driftwood Kitchen is comprised of true professionals and people that I trust. Keys on or off, these people act the same. With Integrity. This is one of the reasons I am most excited about this place. 

Sun Tzu wrote of appearing strong when weak, and weak when strong. Warfare is misdirection. These days, I just count on my staff to do their job because they appear to simply do it. What a luxury having a staff you can trust is. 

Stay tuned for more info on Driftwood; we're getting close. 

I've Never Had My Lunch Stolen

Admittedly, my goal in my life has always been to not work in an office. I compare it to a corporate claustrophobia. It was a funny realization I had the other night; I found a post on Imgur.com , a website that I spend an embarrassing amount of time on, about how in offices, people steal each other's lunches.

I had no idea that such a thing was a common issue in modern office life. I asked if this was a widespread thing and I got about 150 responses, short stories on their experiences. Some of my favorites were:

@giantmongoose: Yep, it's ridiculous. A grown ass adult sees your slice of key lime pie and JUST FUCKING EATS IT. But I'm not bitter or anything.

@babymuncher (where do they think of these names???) My dad worked in a car factory and this one guy ate everyone's sandwiches every day. So everyone put motor oil on their sand which one day

@LeSeyne Hi. My name is Louie. Yesterday, I had a delicious ham-and-cheese called "mike".

It's funny, with the exception of a summer stint working at a law firm in Boston, I've never worked in a true office. To give you an idea of the work I've done, I've cut trees, been a bike messenger, worked as a political consultant ("Office" is a loose term on this one...), documentary film maker, photographer, and then the restaurant industry.

I had no idea that Lunch Bandits were one of the many trip-wires in the office world that I have never been a part of. I told my wife this weird factoid, and the result was hilarious.

"Oh my god," she started, "[name redacted] has eaten at least 5 of my lunches. I know it was him. I just could never catch him. Motherf***er." Keep in mind this was about 6-7 years ago. Granted, I still remember every asshole who ever bullied my in elementary school, so I suppose it's not that hard to believe.

It's so funny, these little things that we experience that stick in our memory. In the restaurant industry, because you are serving food, you really don't bring it in to work with you, unless of course you are a health nut in which case you are weird. Some places do family meals at the beginning of the shift, where chef throws together a meal based on what he has in stock and is the least expensive. In fact, that reminds me that I need to ask my Chef about it.

Overall, I'm not sure why I found this little phenomenon so entertaining. I watch The Office, and it's hard for me to believe that half of the hijinks that occur on that show really happen in real life. It's curious, the world that we live in.

For bartenders, it's really Tip Thieves that are the bane of a coworkers existence. Bartenders usually split tips when bartending behind the same bar, but I've caught a few of the people I've worked with pocketing tips from their friends so they don't have to share with their co-workers or tip out to their support staff.

Do you have a great little story about something like Lunch Bandit's that occurs only in your workplace?  Post it in the comment section! I'm curious to hear what a strange world we live in.

Stay thirsty,
Eric

The Big Secret

Change is always a very exciting time.

As many of you may know, I will be opening Driftwood Kitchen on H St. NE - the neighborhood I've called my home since I have moved to Washington DC. It has been hectic and until we get closer to an opening date, I won't be releasing the details that so many of my friends, family, and clients are interested in. That will come later, I promise. I have learned something valuable that I needed to share.

I had a friend of mine who works a 9-5 job tell me, "Well, that must be great. They always say that if you love what you do, you will never work a day in your life."

That, dear readers, is a lie. Falsehood. Misrepresentation. Myth. Tall tale.

Bullshit.

I love what I do, and I know that I do. It is the type of steel-trap certainty that causes me to take turns doubting it, renouncing it, and coming back to it within a single thought. It's what made me realize a very simple truth:

If you love what you do, you will work every single day of your life.

Sometime since agreeing to open and run Driftwood Kitchen, I found myself answering phone calls and texts 20 hours of the day. I'm in there at 8am and leaving well after 8 to go to meeting with my owners, or to retreat to my couch to do more work on my computer. I don't have days off, I simply have a few hours every day where I can take a breath. There is always something to do. When I go out for dinner, I'm thinking about my dishes. When I'm at another bar, I'm looking for ideas and inspiration. I spend most of my time talking about Driftwood. I spend the rest of my time thinking about it. When it comes to operating a business, there are always a task in each hand and three more in the air that you are juggling.

Don't get it confused; I am not complaining about it. I am exhausted and put my head down and think about the task hand.

I have the fortune to be working with some of the finest businessmen and restauranteurs with the highest standard of motivation, dedication and savvy I have seen. Mo, one of the principal partners, told me when I accepted this position: "Get ready to work harder than you ever have." He was right.

What I have realized in this short amount of time about when you start your own business and really get down to it, you don't stop. Ever. You work every single day. Maybe I'm not in the physical business itself, but my mind always is. And that is the big secret. I have the absolute privilege of busting my ass alongside serious professionals  every single day of the week.

And that is loving what you do.

One of my first regulars died yesterday.

Life is a continuous balance of comedy and tragedy; something that we must all deal and cope with. It's funny how things end up. Some people are just taken too soon.

As a bartender, your financial success in the industry is predicated on building "regulars," or people who come to see you at least once a week. When I first started bartending in DC, I could make drinks faster than anyone I worked with and was really starting to come into my own creatively, but had trouble, much as I did when I was younger, "playing with others." In short, I was an asshole.

Now, the concept of a "regular" feels really wrong at first. It feels as if both parties are pretending. I am pretending to care about who you are and you are pretending that you believe that I care. The suspension of disbelief by both parties is just ridiculous. I, your bartender, begin to memorize facts about you, much like I would with a real friend, make sure I know your drink and your name and your likes and dislikes, and in return, you give me money. Yes, this feels absurd. Then something funny happens.

At some point, you look forward to seeing your regulars. While you were taking the time to learn details about them, they were doing the same, and in some way you have created a bond, and the money doesn't feel awkward; its an understanding.  I'm not explaining it right but if you've ever had a regular, you understand.

Val was one of my first regulars. She was good friends with a girl I was serving with, and always had a smile on her face. I was told on Friday that she was in a terrible accident. I only had drinks with her in a group of larger friends a handful of times, but she would come to every single place I worked at and grab a drink. Say hello, catch up, and let me know what she was up to. She asked my advice on the restaurant industry: (My response: Don't do it!) and would later on bartend at a mutual friend's bar. She would come to me later and ask my about bartending and tell me her recipe ideas and how much fun she was having.

To be honest, dear reader, I am not sure the point I have in writing this. It's 6 in the morning and I haven't been able to sleep since friday night. I've had more friends than I care to list depart this world before their time, and could not figure out why this one was so different for me. I'm still not sure, but here is a guess.

I see my friends maybe once a week for a few hours. Regulars you see more than once a week. There are some regulars that just annoy you, but Val was a friend. She was a wonderful, lively young woman who I genuinely always liked seeing. I saw her often years ago and less in these past years; I regret that. To see the outpouring of love from so many members of the DC community has been an incredible thing. It speaks volumes of her character and is a testament to her spirit.  It is my suspicion that I mis-titled the beginning of this post, and it should've read "One of my friends died yesterday."

Val, we all wish you well upon your journey. I'll make sure I have a shot out there waiting for you.

For any who read this and knew Val, my deepest condolences on your loss and my kindest regards to your family. I hope that you all find comfort; I am thinking of you all.


-E

A Sip in Time

I’m sitting in BWI right now sipping a passable Cabernet at an outrageous price, on my way back to Boston for the weekend, and something occurred to me.

Let’s be honest with each other for a minute or two. I know why you do it, and I understand the trepidations, but most of us have no idea about wine.  A frightening amount of wine lovers don’t know a thing. I learned this very early, because before I managed, bartended, or even worked as a door guy (a glorious 3 day stint before getting my ass kicked and being moved to bar back - that’s another story…), I sold wine. When I was 19. How did I sell wine at 19, you ask? Well I don’t know, but it was really easy. 

Between working as a bike messenger and playing lacrosse and being an RA, I needed more money, therefore I needed more work. I applied to stock shelves at the Downtown Shaw wine department, which was huge. They told me that rather doing that, I could sell wine. I met Bill, a swarthy Boston man, born and bred, who has probably forgotten more about wine than I will ever know.

“I’m not 21,” I told him. “Yea, but you’re in college. You drink.”

“Yea, but not wine,” I replied incredulously. “And I can’t drink legally.” He laughed and gave me a hearty slap on the shoulder, and said “Well, you sure can read, college boy. You look at least 23, just fake it.”

Understand, I am not the type of person to half ass anything. And it just occurred to me, that I didn’t need to be able to drink to sell wine, I just had to read. And lie. 

“If anyone asks you ‘what’s a good year,’ tell them that the only years that mattered were 1961 and 1982, and they only mattered in Bordeaux.” Bill told me as we perused the Old World section of the wine shop. I had heard the term thrown around, and never really knew what it meant.  (An interesting update, 2009 and 2010 were both also once-in-a-generation harvests in Bordeaux before the collapse of the Bordeaux in the Chinese market.) Bill broke down the regions, varietals, and would lecture as well of any of my professors at Emerson College. I would have my wine books and put them in the cue in between studying First Amendment Law with Professor Brown, Crisis Communication with Doctor Payne, and Political Theory with Professor Kimball. 

Looking back it was hilarious. I would shock and entertain my customers with the opinion that Bordeaux could produce nothing to even compare with an unfiltered Northern Rhone (because I had to sell 4 cases of it to make Bill his quota). I would amaze them with my knowledge of Old and New world, having literally only ever had a sip of the Concho y Toro Red that my mom would drink after work (which is not far off from what I enjoy drinking currently, except fruitier…) and never a sip more in my life. 

When I began to truly taste and study wine, it took me a long time to appreciate why there was so much reverence for some of these older vintages and why some people paid incredible amounts of money for a Chateau Margaux that was older than anyone I knew. It was because wine especially, is history. It’s this moment of realization that when you drink a wine from another century, it’s like opening a time capsule. It’s a connection with the past - a piece of history. It’s not an observance of history, its a PARTICIPATION in it, and that is something magical. 

Stay Thirsty,

Eric

Lying to Children

I had a father and son duo come into my bar today. The young man and his father stride up to the bar, and I offered to seat them at a table. I told the duo that the boy wasn't allowed to sit there, and with a bit of a disappointed look, they sat at a table.

They ordered a beer for dad and just water to the son. I could see the dad peering nervously over the menu with the son; I've seen this before.

In case you didn't know, kids are scared of sushi. It's foreign, uses chopsticks, and most importantly it is raw food. Now, as a child, the words "raw" and "food" simply didn't go together. Food was something that was cooked and served, not killed and sliced. Perhaps it is the naiveté of western culture, but I didn't realize that most of the food I enjoyed were animals that were killed and butchered until the first time I had lobster. (Long story short: there were tears.  My parents love telling the story to embarrass me.)

As a society, we go into the grocery store and buy a package of chicken breasts, or pork, or beef, and many children never realize these are animals that we kill. To eat. Hell, I didn't know that a pineapple came from the ground and not some sort of magical tree until I was 18. I watched as children popped the heads off of chickens when I was living in Costa Rica, and I can't imagine my 10 year old self being able to kill anything that was on my "the farmer says" toy

(Remember this thing?!?!)

Now, do not for one second think I am about to make a case for vegetarianism. If someone told me I was only allowed to have steak if I killed the cow myself, I would do it with my bare hands if I had no other means. I love meat. I will kill things to eat all day. But, what does this have to do with lying to children?

Dad ordered shrimp tempura for the son, which usually comes with some eel sauce on top. I dropped it at the table myself, and they asked what the sauce was. I didn't miss a beat. "It's a brown sweet sauce. You'll love it." Dad told me this was his first time having sushi, and he was very nervous. Lo and behold, the kid LOVED the shrimp tempura. So I decided to be sneaky. I asked Dad if son had any allergies. This is when I decided to lie to a child.

I ordered some Crispy Squares, which are pieces of rice baked and lightly fried with a spicy tuna on top. They aren't a sushi roll and don't have seaweed, but I really wanted this young man to try raw fish. I remember the first time I ate sushi, and it was very empowering. I felt very grown up.

I brought the dish to the table and asked the young man, who had a case on his right wrist and two splinted fingers. "Brotherly love" he chirped as gave me a mischievous smile. I knew exactly what that meant.

I dropped the dish and told him to try it. He asked me cautiously what it was (spicy tuna doesn't look like a piece of fish) and I lied. I lied through my teeth. I told him it was shrimp tempura, but just looked different. I told them it was my treat and walked away, I saw him cautiously take a nibble. From my bar as soon as he swallowed, I saw his legs just kick a little bit. He actually liked it. I went back to the table and came clean.

"Hey dude, don't get worried, but you just ate your first raw fish. Real sushi." Dad looked wide eyed. The kid internalized the information, and then smiled. I knew what he was feeling.  A moment ago he wasn't allowed to sit at the bar because he was too young, and now he just ate sushi like a real adult. I told him what it was so he could order it next time. "That's the first step, man. Next thing you know you'll be eating raw octopus and growing a beard. Give it a month." He stroked his chin expectantly.

These are the moments why I do this job. He will go home and tell the story to his mom and his brother. Next time he goes to a sushi place he won't be as intimidated. By the time he can go on dates with girls he will be cultured with a real palette. He may forever remember the first day that he had real raw fish.

But he won't remember me.

Afterwards, I was neck deep in work, and the young man came up to the bar. "Excuse me, sir," he said. "I wanted to thank you for the sushi today. It was delicious. I'm not mad that you told me it was shrimp."

"That's a relief," I told him with a smile. "What's your name?"

"Sander," he said quickly. "Sander with an 'S'. Spelled 'S-A-N-D-E-R'

"I won't forget," I told him. "Take care of that hand."

I gave him a fist bump, and looked up to his father, who gave a wave. What a great kid he will turn out to be.

That's kind of the point. You see, we punctuate our lives with drinks and food. I remember my first beer and remember my first manhattan. I remember the first time I realized that rare steak is the only way to cook it. I don't remember any of my servers or bartenders. You don't either. We are the invisible facilitators of engagements, anniversaries, first dates, and nights you wish you could forget. That is the soul of this job. I will always remember young Sander, even if he forgets all about me.

Stay Thirsty,
-E

A Thank You note

I just wanted to thank the followers of this Blog, my friends, family, and supporters. My cocktail menu at Mate Lounge just received "best cocktail selection" in Washington City Paper 2014 "Best of" awards, and I was first runner up as DC's Best Mixologist (even though I hate that word…)

It is a strange thing, winning awards in this industry. It's hard to feel too accomplished because you see so many young bartenders and restaurant workers that are struggling to make a name for themselves. There are so many young, talented people out there who receive no recognition, or even the thanks of the people that they make so much money for. This industry, this job, this lifestyle can be so difficult and yet so rewarding.

I remember my first cocktail menu; I recently found an old, worn out copy of it, and see how far I have come. There are so many exciting things on the horizon for me; I cannot begin to tell you.

I just wanted to personally thank my parents for believing that I could do something worth while choosing this job, and my wife for holding all of the pieces together; without her I would certainly fall apart. Also thanks to The Bear, Alex Davin, the man who is still my teacher. I'm so glad you helped me develop this obsession.

To anyone reading this who has dreams of making that perfect cocktail, I just want to say that this is what we love; don't let anyone take that away from you. Never be afraid to try something new  and always know your worth. Don't let anyone get you down when you get the inevitable "…but what's your real job?" line of questioning. Be proud.

Keep your bar clean, choose when to shake and when to stir, and keep your vermouth refrigerated.

Thank you to everyone who helped; I couldn't have done it without you.

Stay Thirsty,
Eric

A Practical Guide to Checking ID's

Over the last few weeks, I have been dealing with a terrifying issue: underage drinkers. While I did all the research and prepared to train my staff on this, I searched the web for articles on spotting fakes. To my surprise there is VERY little information on this. So here it is. Strap in folks, this may be a long one, but I do this for my industry brothers and sisters.

As many of you may know, Washington, DC, is an international city. It is also a college town. As many of you also know, the legal drinking age in the US is 21. Now, before the words cross your lips, I am not particularly interested in arguing the merits of European drinking models, but some of you don't know the penalty of underage drinking on a bar or restaurant. In DC, here is the penalty breakdown:

First offense
Venue
Fine: $1,000 (Min) - $2,000 (Max)
License suspension (How long they shut you down): 5 days
Other: 5 consecutive day suspension may be stayed if all employees complete alcohol training in 3 months
Bartender
Upon conviction for the first offense, be fined not more than $1,000, or imprisoned up to 180 days, or both

Second offense
Venue
Fine: $2,000 (Min) - $4,000 (Max)
License suspension: 10 days
Other: 6 days of consecutive suspension may be stayed if all employees complete alcohol training in 3 months
Bartender
(2) Upon conviction for the second offense committed within 2 years from the date of any such
previous offense, be fined not more than $2,500, or imprisoned up to 180 days, or both;

Third offense
Venue
Fine: $4,000 (Min) - $10,000 (Max)
License suspension: 15 consecutive days
Other: Board may revoke license
Bartender
(3) Upon conviction for the third or any subsequent offense committed within 2 years from the
date of any such previous offense, be fined not more than $5,000, or imprisoned up to one year,
or both.

(Fourth offense, they don't even list fines. By then, the board bends you over. It's done.)

This is really serious stuff. Now, I wanted to look up some stuff on exactly how ABRA conducts sting operations. This is not exactly the easiest information to get, and between talking with fellow industry professionals and calling the ABRA offices, here is what I gathered.

1. The All-famous sting operation
ABRA will use underage agents to come in and try to purchase alcohol. Technically, from what I have understood, they cannot present you with a fraudulent ID; that is entrapment. When asking the ABRA official on the phone if they can present a fraudulent ID, she expertly dodged the question. It is my impression that they conduct a sting with the follow criteria:

• The ID is expired (this is the most popular)
• The ID is valid, but is not the ID of the person presenting it to you.
• The ID is valid, but the person is underage and you deserve to be shut down for your carelessness.

2. Fishing

I have had ABRA come into my establishment, look around for someone who looks underage, and ask for their ID. I was never sure if it was legal for them to do that, but in the law it states:

25-801(f) ABRA investigators may request and check the identification of a patron inside of or attempting to enter an establishment with an alcohol license. ABRA investigators may seize evidence that substantiates a violation under this title, which shall include seizing alcoholic beverages sold to minors and fake identification documents used by minors.

So what will happen is that ABRA officers will come in and ask for ID. If they find someone, the results can be bad. But here is the question that I am up against: How the hell am I supposed to catch all of the fakes?

This is a daunting task in the District of Columbia. We have a high volume of college kids with disposable incomes, so they can afford a fake ID that will cost $300 or more. Moreover, there are many people with international ID's; how the hell am I supposed to be able to tell if an ID from Honduras is legit? Can I even accept a foreign ID? Well, yes and no. The law says:

(3) For the purpose of determining valid representation of age, each person shall be required to present to the establishment owner or representative at least one form of valid identification, which shall have been issued by an agency of government (local, state, federal, or foreign) and shall contain the name, date of birth, signature, and photograph of the individual. 

What this says is that technically if it is a government issued ID, then you are a go. Keep in mind that an "International Drivers License"is not. Sorry. Also a copy of a document (like a copy of a passport) is also not a document. A picture on their phone is not a document. With even a basic understanding of photoshop I can make my ID say that I have blonde hair, blue eyes, and was born in 1886. The moral of the story on Foreign Government ID's is to use your discretion. In Boston, they won't anything but US passports or MA ID's.  I have seen doctored passports, State id's and foreign ID's. The key is to reduce your risk, and not be afraid to say "no."

Tricks and Tips

Now that we have gone over the law, lets fast forward. 

I had a gaggle of girls come into my venue a few weeks ago. Two of the places down the street had been hit by ABRA in a sting. Another friend of mine was going into court for ABRA fishing in his place and they caught someone. His place had a competent door guy, but unfortunately the Chinese are making very very good fakes right now. I asked him what he was arguing in court, and he told me to read the law. I did, and here is what I found:

25-783 (b) A licensee or his agent or employee shall take steps reasonably necessary to ascertain whether  any person to whom the licensee sells, delivers, or serves an alcoholic beverage is of legal drinking age. Any person who supplies a valid identification document showing his or her age to be the legal drinking age shall be deemed to be of legal drinking age. 

What does this actually say? The words you need to pay attention to is "steps reasonably necessary." This tells me some important information. First it tells me that there is a minimum expectation of diligence required, and it tells me that I AM NOT A FEDERAL AGENT. The argument my friend is putting in court is that there are fake ID's of such a high quality coming out that they are taking reasonable measures to detect them but technology simply cannot keep up.  So, here are your two levels of ID checking that I recommend.

Level 1: Basic Restaurant/bar venue, medium volume, non-college area/ non-city

• The key to detecting a fake ID is knowing the answer before you ask the question. 90% of the time I catch an underage or a fake, I had flagged them the moment that they walked in and told my server I want to ID them myself. Trust your instincts and go in for the close look.
• Remember that you don't know these people, and they may be trying to commit a crime (if the police catch them using a fake ID, first offense is a $300 fine and/or 90 suspension of license) that can put yours and your coworkers jobs on the line. Service only extends to those guests who don't disrespect and jeopardize my establishment by defrauding me. 
• Look for the telltale psychological signs of someone being 18/19/20. They aren't going to look comfortable, you will notice them looking around a lot. Announce yourself as a manager and see if they get scared. Ooze confidence and see if they look like they're going to shit themselves. 
• Look for the telltale physical signs of someone being 18/19/20. For men, check their hairline, look for any signs of recession. See if they have shaved today - most men have to shave every day or they will quickly get stubble, (unless your a manly man like me with a large unkempt beard that pisses your wife off.) Look under their eyes or on their brow for signs of aging. Remember, drinking AGES you. 
• Watch as they take out their ID. On most purses and wallets there is a transparent spot for the ID to go. Kids are usually arrogant and lazy, so they will sometimes have their real ID in that spot and pull a fake from another place in the wallet. Also see what else they have in their wallet - look for credit cards. You may need to ask for a second form of ID or a card, and if they say they don't have one, you know the ID is fake.
• Feel the ID. Before I even look at it (I like to maintain eye contact while I slightly bend the ID in my hands. What's that I smell? FEAR.) But seriously feel it. The same way that experienced bartenders can feel exactly how much is left in a bottle by weight, experienced ID checkers know what each state's plastic feels like. I had a Serbian guy who spotted Virginia fake ID's by flicking them with his fingernail a few times while holding it up to his ear. Imagine a big bald scary guy who sounds like Ivan Drago saying "The ID will exsplain to me if they are lyink." He knew the sound so well he could tell if the plastic was wrong. Pretty amazing. I saw this same guy punch someone so hard that their shoes flew 20 feet across the room. Also pretty amazing. 
• If the Id is cracked or hole punched, or the integrity is damaged in any way, it is not valid. 
• Make sure that the ID fulfills the law. There are 5 different qualifications that must be met.
• Must be issued by a government (International Drivers License is not valid)
• Must have a name
• Must have a picture
• Must have a date of birth
• Must have a signature
• Next, look at the person. Then look at the picture. Look at the person again, and back to the picture. The next part is seeing if the picture is the person in front of you. Be careful; older siblings will often times pass their ID's down. I look for things like nostrils, ears, cheekbones, and jaw structure. These are things that are normally different in siblings. Don't get caught up with stuff like eye shape or hair color; any girl knows how to change these things with makeup and other cosmetics. If you look at a person twice, the fake ID guest will usually start to get nervous. Pay attention to non-verbal cues. 
• Check the date of birth: they must be born before todays date, 21 years ago. If your staff cant do math, hang up a sign with date before. 
• Check the expiration date. If the ID is expired, you cannot serve that guest. No exceptions. Well, ok there is one exception. If you have someone come to drink and they clearly lived through at least one world war, serve them. Worst case scenario is that they're Benjamin Button but that would be a pretty compelling argument in court. 
• If one of these things isn't working, or you just don't feel quite confident, ask them if they have another form of ID. 9 times out of 10 they will. This is where watching their wallet comes into play. They will usually take it out and start looking, but then have to scramble to see what they can show you. Just yesterday I had someone sort through their wallet looking for a second form and I saw a drivers license from a different state. I said "oh, there's another form of ID!" and he quietly walked out of the bar. If they don't have another form, ask if they have a credit card with their name on it; it will let you gauge the quality of the ID if it's fake. By now, trust your instincts.
• THE FINAL TEST: if you still aren't sure after all of that, call the bluff and tell them that you can't accept their ID. Most kids that are underage drinkers will quietly say "Ok, that's fine." and just be glad that you are not taking their fake from them. Anyone who has a real ID will likely make a pretty big fuss. This is where you discover how big of balls they have. I had a girl in the other night and I told her I wouldn't take her ID and she said "Well, if you're going to be an asshole about it, then fine." To which I responded: "It is your right to have the police verify your identity if you would like. In fact, if they do, your drinks are on me for the inconvenience." This is the part where you discover how far they want to take it. She dropped the issue immediately and I told her that she needed to leave; nobody but my friends can call me an asshole in my place and stay. This is true, a police officer can verify an ID for you. 
• The moral of the story is that these are what I have always used as my restaurant/small bar guidelines, and I have never been busted by ABRA as a bartender or manager.

Level 2: Lounge/Nightclub/higher volume establishment

• Black lights should be int he tool box of every manager. Not only are they the standard for checking for increased authenticity, but they are a great way to see what needs to be cleaned. If you are a manager and think your place is clean, I dare you to put a black light in your bathroom or in the walls of hallways and see how clean it really is. 
• Grab an app called "MobileID Guide" for your phone. It is $.99 cents, easy to quickly navigate state ID's and each state will have microprint and blacklight things to look for. It's a great tool for US ID's and it updates as well. This is most useful for checking for blacklight patterns on the ID. 

• ID scanners are a must-have for any truly large venue (500+ people) but are sometimes an unnecessary expense for a place like mine that will have 150-200 people on a saturday night. I found a great little app called "barZapp" for $1.99 that will scan the barcode of an ID using your smartphone camera. It will tell you the name, birthday, and give you an opinion if the ID is valid or not. It's a terrific tool as a last means for an ID that I am 80% sure is legit but just want some additional insurance. Between that and Mobile ID guide, accompanied with some experience and common sense, this is what I see as reasonable steps.

The one question that I couldn't get answered by ABRA is on foreign government ID's. Many college kids will either have an international fake or be truly international with no US form of ID. This can be a tricky problem. The general consensus that I got was that ABRA will not ever put forth a fake foreign ID. Make sure it's not expired and go from there. The argument is that I am not a federal agent trained in detecting counterfeit ID's from countries across the world. If you are really worried I would go to www.driverslicenseguide.com and order one of their international ID books; just be careful to keep an updated one nearby.  If a US ID scans, passes blacklight, has all the points of ID then I think I have taken more than reasonable steps to detect a valid ID and have exhausted my other options.

This is a ton of information, I know. I am going to try to keep this as a living document that I will be changing. If anyone has any questions, comments, tips or tricks, please re-post and leave comments. 

Returning...with tail between legs. A favor:

Well, it has been an embarrassingly long time since I have updated this. The unfortunate truth about this industry is that it is about proper time management and updating the blog took a back seat to the responsibilities of running a venue. I have excuses for days; I've been writing a cook book with my wife. We released a brand new food and cocktail menu at Mate Lounge. All of these things mean nothing, after all, I hate excuses. So let's move on.

New cocktail menu! We have some really exciting stuff on my newest menu. It's nice to know that I can still push myself to hit new goals and expand my craft. As always, I owe all of it to the continued support of friends and family, and of course, the Bear.

This bring us to the tail between legs part. I need your help.

Washington City Paper does a "Best of" contest every year when you can nominate and then vote for any venue in different categories. I implore, beg, plead: please vote for us. We have 3 categories that we are fighting for, and every single vote counts.

Polls close FEBRUARY 27 so PLEASE vote now!

Step one: Click this Link: http://www.washingtoncitypaper.com/bestofpoll
Step Two: Scroll Down to "Food and Drink" and click "81 more"
Step Three: Vote for the following three catagories:
Best Cocktail Selection: Mate Lounge
Best Restaurant: Mate Lounge
Best Mixologist: Eric Tollar

You have to sign up and it takes a moment of your time, but this is really important to me.

As payment, here is a picture of my adorable dog.

Stay Thirsty,
Eric Tollar