- THE INSOFFERERS: these are the ones who don't care what time they attack, whether it's morning or night, but will only ever do you a favor serving you and tend to remind you of it by non-smiling, non-saluting and carrying the weight of the world on their own shoulders. They are the ones who 'throw' the coffee saucers on the counter and always manage to slide the drop onto the cup out of a hurry to make your coffee, serve you and get this pain in the ass called 'work' out of the way.
- THE FIGACCIOUS: those who, as bartenders, specifically bartenders in trendy nightclubs and clubs, wear V-neck t-shirts showing off biceps clogged with tattoos, with their hair perpetually immobile but who at your request for a Cuba Libre manage to shake it for you (???) and torture the Mojito mint so much that they make you want to call civil defense.
- THE PALLIATIVES: those who only fell back on the bartending profession because they had no idea what to do and plunged into the job they said 'they can all do it, it doesn't take anything anyway,' but then find themselves serving you boiled milk in a half-empty cup, calling it a 'cappuccino.
- MINCHIOLOGISTS: unfortunately, they are becoming more and more prevalent. They show up at every competition of every brand in every country, with that air of accomplishment that makes them turn up their noses when they then find themselves in their own establishment serving Gimlets. They refuse to dry glasses, waking up early in the morning, mistreating apprentices and only showing up in the presence of colleagues who drop by to see them. But braaaaavi!
- THE DISAGREETICS: those who seem to have emerged from a prehistoric cave given the rather coarse manners, such that they show themselves without any problem on their knees to calculate to the millimeter the level of wine in the glasses to avoid any disparity whatsoever, topping up the glass having finished the bottle first, grabbing ice with their hands, picking up teaspoons accidentally dropped on the platform from the ground and putting them back on the saucer, not caring that anyone has observed them.
- THE PARANOID: They can't handle the pressure, they face the day of the village market as a last-ditch challenge, and the full tables as propaedeutic sessions for the meeting with the shrink, commenting in front of the customers themselves on their discomfort, stuffing it with long snorts. They fear the arrival of orders like a deadly virus and find themselves without coffee cups due to lack of work coordination. Someone help them out!
- HAIRDRESSERS: the ones who haven't really realized they're in the wrong line of work, gossiping about customers present, absent, just leaving and arriving. Rather than in a bar, they give you the feeling that you are in a beauty salon for middle-aged women who are counting on the calluses of their neighbors, so much so that you wonder what they will have just said about you having crossed the threshold of the bar to leave.
- THE VENALS: those who calculate the prices of merchandise based on the weather it makes, the extra gram of coffee in a kilo bag, daily inflation, the location of the establishment, the number of place settings, the gallons of water used to rinse the dishes, the amount of light consumed to keep the radio on, and then respond to the customer who asks 'Do you happen to have a bottle of Coke instead of a can?' a nice 'If you don't like the prices go somewhere else! Everyone has their own policies!' But why!
- THE ACCUSATORS: the ones who, after waiting half an hour to take your order, manage to bring you an iced coffee and a settled juice only at the appearance of your first wrinkle. Before that happens, however, you, beginning to lose hope, timidly ask for an explanation and the response is 'But do you see that I'm busy?" and down comes another snort, which makes you retreat back to your chair, complete with a feeling of inadequacy that conveys the feeling that it is actually your fault that you have undoubtedly made a rash gesture by ordering and paying. I humbly apologize.
- THE INDIFFERENT: Those who, when you enter, are having interesting conversations with the only patron inside the bar, the one who has already paid and is about to leave, but doesn't really intend to leave the discourse in the middle, encouraged by the bartender who doesn't hint that he wants to take his leave but, on the contrary, leans against the nearest shelf crossing his arms and disquisition on interesting details about the topic of discussion, about which within minutes you become an expert, but which makes you completely forget why you entered that bar in the first place. Oh yeah, when you're done, at your leisure, will you make me a coffee?
After the excursus on the customers who are preferably avoidable like the plague, it is time to even the score and shoot the bartender darlings who manage to be just as harmful.