From The Bone
The outside world is swallowed whole. You hang your coat, pull up a barstool, and your feet find home. The beat of service swells. It puts a breath in your chest. Scoops plunge into the ice well. Coupes ring out as they are pulled from the back bar. Fridge seals reach but never seem to close. Nothing else matters. Welcome to your Third Place.
Our First and Second Places are the pillars of our lives. First is home. Second is work. Our Third Place is the in-between. It is a transitional space. It is powerful, and it plays the role of mediator in our lives.
A sociologist named Ray Oldenburg coined Third Place in the 1980s. The theory can be applied anthropologically, architecturally and in personal development. To function fully in our private and working relationships, we need to gain distance from them. Third Place brings clarity and perspective to the commotion of home and work. Your Third Place could be a mountain, a library, your gym or a café. My Third Place is a bar.
In your Third Place, social hierarchies are obsolete. Strangers mingle and norms are left at the door. It is comfortable and safe here. You can choose to be engaged or alone, depending on what you are hungry for. This place is your own, and you are protective of it. You should be. It gives you what you need. Distraction or solitude; a good time or a hard time, a double rye or a martini. Escapism or reality.
It is a powerful realisation to understand that you hold a person’s in-between in your hands. You have the ability to make time stand still. Acknowledging this capability changed my understanding of bars and created an acute sense of belonging in hospitality.
The feeling of a Saturday night in service is indescribable. The back of your neck grows damp with sweat. Your eyes move from garnish to patron and back in rhythm. Dockets fire from the dispense machine faster than Chef can throw plates. Everything feels right, and acute, and endless.
This feeling is addictive. It is a sensation so complex that it is impossible to explain to a stranger. Bringing Third Place to life comes from the bone, and with it, a deep sense of purpose.
The double-edged sword of this purpose is that it can be very difficult to separate our own Places. In the hospitality industry, we quickly find them bleeding together into a single current. The turmoil of service thickens.
I’m not sure I can pinpoint when my Places intertwined. Probably very early on in my bartending career. Perhaps when I made friends with the stray lime living behind the glass washer. I found myself deep in the gritty, beautiful current of hospitality, and I quite frankly loved it. I lived with my co-workers. None of my friends worked Mondays.
But for a long time, my Third Place was compromised. I didn’t really have one. Without this place, I struggled to gain clarity. Life blurred. While I was deeply satisfied by sculpting Third Place for others, I had sacrificed this experience for myself.
Once I faced the problem, which was tied in with ego, sense of belonging and lack of self-control, I worked to untangle it. The ache in my mind thawed, and my subconscious had the opportunity to tick over. My life became extraordinary. From my favourite seat, in my favourite venue, I have celebrated, mourned, struggled and succeeded. My Place has held me tightly through two years of highs and lows.
Those of us behind bars intuitively get it. We may not always be able to articulate it. Many a shift has seen us yearning for the sweet release of a keg exploding, or the roof falling in. There will be many more. But at the end of the day, the answer to “why do you do it?” is always the same: a shrug, and I love it.
To each person reading this, thank you for creating Third Place. And to my own, Bar Rochford: I love you.
If you want to read more about Third Place and Third Space, check out The Great Third Place by Ray Oldenburg, and The Third Space Theory by Adam Fraser. If you are hungry to create better Third Places, read Charlie Trotter’s Lessons in Excellence, and Kitchen Confidential by Bourdain.
The following photos are part of Lucy’s Silk and Grit series. Find out more.
