The Tab. The Crime. The Documentation.
I have the receipt. I am looking at it right now. I have been looking at it since Tuesday and I will continue looking at it for as long as it takes for somebody, anybody, to explain to me what "Staff Transition Fee: $3.50" is and why it appears on my tab between the second drink and the nuts I did not order but am apparently also paying for.
Staff transition. That is what it says. Staff transition. As though the handoff between one bartender and another is a service I consumed. As though I requested a transition. As though I sat down and said, "I'll have an old fashioned, a bowl of nuts I didn't ask for, and one staff transition, medium rare, thank you very much."
I did not say that. Nobody says that. It is not a thing you say because it is not a thing that exists. A staff transition is an internal employment matter. It is a scheduling problem. It is the bar's problem. It is, in no universe I recognize, a line item on my tab.
And yet. Three dollars and fifty cents. Gone. Absorbed into the universe. A charge for the bartender being replaced by a different bartender, neither of whom I hired, both of whom I tipped anyway because I am not a monster.
I have documented this. I have told four people about it this week. Two of them were strangers in a parking lot. They agreed with me. They had no choice, I was on speakerphone.
What the Shift Change Actually Is (A Complete Investigation)
Here is what happened. I was mid-drink. The bartender I had, Gary, or possibly Greg, I did not catch the name because I was focused on my drink like a professional, Gary-Greg said "my man Derek will take care of you" and then left. Derek arrived. Derek did not know what I was drinking. I told Derek. Derek nodded. Derek made the drink differently. I paid for all of this plus three dollars and fifty cents for the transition between Gary-Greg and Derek.
I want to be clear about something. A THC old fashioned, made correctly, does not hand you off to anyone. It does not introduce you to Derek. It does not change its formula at the forty-minute mark. It does not say "my man the second half of the can will take care of you." It is the same drink, start to finish, the whole way through, consistent and honest and not charging you for its own internal logistics.
That is not a small thing. That is, in fact, the entire point.
Lou's Damn Right I'm Old Fashioned is 8mg THC, bitters, orange, oak, and zero shift change fees. It does not reorganize its staff between sips. It does not hand you to Derek. It knows what it is from the first sip to the last and it stays that way, which is more than I can say for any bar tab I have received in the last four years.
A Partial List of Other Things I Have Been Charged For That I Did Not Order
Since we are in documentation mode, let us keep going. I have receipts, plural, and I have been waiting for an opportunity like this.
- • "Venue enhancement fee." The venue was not enhanced. There was a speaker playing something with no discernible melody and one of the barstools was shorter than the others. That is not enhancement, that is a mystery.
- • "Specialty ice." Ice is weather. Weather is free. I have explained this before and I will explain it again as many times as necessary until it is carved into a building somewhere.
- • "Artisanal garnish surcharge." There was a dehydrated orange wheel on my old fashioned. I did not want a dehydrated orange wheel on my old fashioned. I wanted an old fashioned. A real one. Not a craft project. The garnish does not improve the drink. The garnish is a distraction from the drink. You do not decorate a watch. You do not put a hat on a hammer. You do not garnish an old fashioned. You sit down, you drink it, and you leave the orange trees out of it.
- • "Music curation fee." I did not curate the music. Nobody curated the music. The music was bad. If anything I should be issuing a fee to them.
- • And now, the staff transition. Three dollars and fifty cents. For Derek.
The Only Transaction in the Building That Was Honest
Here is what I know. When I crack open a can of Lou's Damn Right I'm Old Fashioned, I know exactly what I am getting. The price is on the page. The ingredients are on the can. Eight milligrams of THC, the terpenes already in there working the way they are supposed to work, the drink already made correctly, no upsell, no Gary-Greg, no Derek, no dehydrated orange wheel I have to move out of the way before I can access my own beverage.
It hits fast because of the nano-emulsification, which I will not explain at length because Herb will explain it at length whether you asked or not, but the short version is: it is not an edible, it is not a slow burn, it works like a drink works, on drink timing, like a reasonable thing made by people who understood the assignment.
And when it is done, it is done clean. No mystery charges appear on your kitchen counter afterward. Nobody adds a "refrigerator transition fee" because the can moved from the shelf to your hand. The transaction is complete. It was always complete. It was complete before Derek was even born.
If you want to try a few different honest transactions, the Variety Pack is sixteen cans, all four of them, and not a single one will hand you off to someone else mid-sip. Mary's M Train, Jane's Cosmo, Herb's bellini, and the Old Fashioned, all in one box, all of them upfront about what they are. Revolutionary concept.
My Official Ruling on the Shift Change Fee
I am not paying it. I did not pay it at the bar because I stood at the bar for eleven minutes waiting for a manager and then the manager was also new and also did not know what the charge was, which tells you everything you need to know about who invented it and why. It was invented by a spreadsheet. Nobody looked a person in the eye and said "we should charge for the shift change." A spreadsheet did it. Spreadsheets have no conscience and no shame and that is why we do not let spreadsheets run bars. Or we should not. And yet.
The Old Fashioned was not invented by a spreadsheet. It was invented by people who wanted a drink that made sense and stayed that way. Whiskey, bitters, a little sugar, an orange peel that is present but not charging rent. That is it. That has always been it. I did not improve it and neither should you. The Lou's Damn Right I'm Old Fashioned is the closest thing I have found to that original honest transaction, except now it has 8mg THC in it instead of regret in the morning, which is, frankly, an upgrade I will accept.
It is in the fridge right now. Consistent, predictable, no Derek, no surcharge, no dehydrated orange wheel. Crack one open. You did not order a staff transition and you should not have to pay for one.
I am keeping the receipt.
Lou's Damn Right I'm Old Fashioned contains 8mg hemp-derived THC per can. For adults 21 and older only. Not available in all states. Not intended to diagnose, treat, cure, or prevent any condition. Please consume responsibly and in accordance with your local laws. These statements have not been evaluated by the FDA.
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