A Day in the Life of a Station Barmaid

It's a slow afternoon at Station One, and Gina McClure is leaning against the tomato red brick wall behind the cash register, as far away as possible from the side door that used to lead out to the open-air patio. A pungent chemical odor pervades the whole building, and Gina is trying to get her mind off the smell by reading her latest vampire novel – Shades of Grey by Amanda Ashley.
"They're staining the floor of the new cornhole room," she explains. "It's giving me a headache."
This recently added "cornhole room" is the latest of the many renovations that Station has undergone within the last two years. After adding two more bars, two new bathrooms, a spacious back patio and covered performance stage, the building's original size is more than twice what it was four years ago, when Gina, 33, first started working here as a bartender.
She's in charge of making the drinks, pouring the draughts, refilling the kegs and managing the cash register out front, but sometimes has to do double-duty making food in the back kitchen when the regular cook isn't in. This isn't Gina's preference, especially when she has a good book sitting under the bar.
"I don't like working in the kitchen. I'm not a cook, I'm a bartender. But when it's slow like this, I can read. I got through that whole Twilight series in about three weeks."
A Springfield native, Gina has worked in the restaurant business for quite awhile. She started as a waitress at Scooter's before taking a bartending position at Savoy Lounge, which closed in 2009 to allow for the renovation of Station One – "Springfield's Finest Waterfront Restaurant," according to the sign out front.
There is another sign inside the building, mounted right above the cash register, which reads "Warning: The barmaid is a bitch." However, in a Samuel Adams T-shirt and sunglasses on top of her head to keep her short brown hair out of her face, Gina the barmaid is just doing her job – which means requesting to see an ID from every person with an alcoholic drink in their hand.
"I know some of these younger Wittenberg kids probably think I'm a bitch because I won't serve them, but they don't realize how much of a risk that is for me and for this business. I'm not gonna wind up in jail because of some stupid underage kid who can't handle his alcohol."
The sign might serve as a warning to the younger patrons of Station, but Gina is on friendly terms with many of the more seasoned regulars. While wiping down the chrome countertop of the bar, she glances up at the two gray-haired gentlemen who just walked in.
"Hey there Danny. You having a PBR? And what about you Rodney?"
The man orders a double-whiskey. Gina shakes her head. "You sure that's a good idea? I remember last time I gave you one of those, you thought it was too strong."
If being a good bartender means knowing the loyal customers, then Gina is a good bartender. She likes her job, saying, "It's not bad. I really can't complain."
Though she claims that she hasn't seen anything "too crazy" during her day shift at Station, she does refer to the Wittenberg crowd as most likely to attempt the "Station Gauntlet" starting at 11 am, when the place opens. What exactly is the Station Gauntlet? "It's when people try to drink a pint of every type of draught we got. Everyone thinks they can do it, but I've only seen one kid actually finish it, and I'm pretty sure he puked right after."
Gina herself doesn't mess around with the variety of Great Lakes brews and imports that she's so used to serving. "Just give me some Bud Light and Jaeger bombs. That's all I need."