Girl About Town

Since Sunday, when I first read about it and did a wild three cheers in myhead, there’s been a lot more articles printed on the subject that offerdifferent viewpoints. For instance, predictably, someIndians feel that women bartending especially in Delhi would trigger offmore incidents like the Jessica Lall one. Then the DelhiPolice objected saying that offering security to these women would be ahassle, especially late at night when men tend to get more inebriated and lustruns high. But these are the very same arguments that the Delhi government hadtried. The Supreme Court, to its credit, stood firm and said that it was thestate’s duty to provide security and to eliminate gender discriminationanyway. But despite all this rah-rah-ing, there’s the rule that onlyallows them to work till 8.30.Seriously, who goes to a bar at 8.30?

Every woman who has seen the movie Coyote Ugly has wanted to be abartender at some point or another. I was no exception. I like serving alcoholat parties, I take pride in mixing a good drink, even if my cooking skills stopat instant noodles. Mixing a drink is like poetry: you either have the rhythmright or you don’t. A good bartender is born not created. I was pretty youngwhen I first saw Coyote Ugly, and thought of my job prospects in thatindustry, but watching it again when I was older made me see it in a differentlight. Perhaps I had grown more cynical over the years, but really, a bar fullof men at a place manned (womanned?) by female bartenders couldn’t only bebecause of their mean mixing skills, could it? Was it also possibly because thewomen were, well, women--good looking in tight t-shirts, who occasionallyperhaps got up on the bar to dance? Is that why, therefore, the hospitalityindustry in India so welcoming of this new rule?

I’m all for it, don’t get me wrong. I think it’s silly that we’ve waitedfor so long for a decision like this. In fact, I didn’t even know there was alaw saying women shouldn’t bartend. I thought women just didn’t want to, atmost places. Would you honestly like to keep smiling and be polite to thedrunken old lech who insists on buying you a drink while pouring himself downthe front of your shirt? On the other hand, it is a personal choice. It may notfloat my boat, but for someone who really enjoys being behind the bar, I don’tsee why there should be a "curfew". It’s almost as if the governmentis acting like the parents of a teenage girl--don’t stay out too late, and howcan you leave the house dressed like that and don’t talk to strangers and whenyou’re done, call us and we’ll come and pick you up. It smacks of purdah, ina strange 21st century way.

This new ruling is a step forward, not only for Indian women, but also forIndia from a global viewpoint. But it’s not entirely feminism. It’s notfeminism because they still have to stop serving at 8.30. It’s not feminismbecause at one level or another, they will be using their bodies to either getwhat they want, or get what the establishment wants (ie, more customers). Dobars in Delhi employ specifically attractive young men to keep the women clientshappy? Not as far as I’ve noticed. In fact, male bartenders on the whole, inmy own personal experience tend to be father-figures. Imagine the turnout if thebartender reminded you of your mother. The thought is not pretty.

It’s not feminism because if anything happens to any of these women, therewill be lots of people more than happy to say, 'Hah, I told you so! See, womenshould just not be allowed to do late night things, because someone will shootthem.' Like women petrol pump attendants or women taxi drivers, I fear thatwomen bartenders will be marginalized the same way--treated as a novelty--unlessthe country itself gets over its fears.