11/20/2022
I’ve come to believe in not giving too much of myself away behind the bar. My private thoughts and feelings are for the people nearest to me. I’m not a sharer when it comes to our patrons at large.
But I have a few things to say, and it starts with thanks. I’m thankful for all of the staff that I’ve worked with over the years. They all contributed to what the Whig became. The final batch of Whig employees, however, were the finest we ever had. I cannot praise them enough for the way they bore up under the extraordinary pressures of the past few months. We were already a busy, successful bar/restaurant. But as soon as we announced that the end was near, business boomed even more. The kitchen got crushed. The bar got crushed. We had to hire door staff for most nights of the week. Everyone adjusted. Everyone worked harder, so we could give Columbia and beyond something special to remember. One of the real shames of having to close is that this is the best we’ve ever been. And all that was accomplished while everyone on staff had to figure out their own ways forward, and while customers, acquaintances, and random weirdos peppered them with unanswerable questions about what the future holds.
We all feel the loss. We’ve lost our favorite bar, our jobs, and a chance to work with people everyday that we consider our friends.
The Whig was my first bar job. I learned most of what I know about the industry behind that tight little bar. The rest of what I learned I tried to apply there. We were never perfect, but I’d like to think we were always getting better. I’ll never be as good as I was behind that particular bar. It was as though it was all fitted to my build, to my reach. I grew into it, and it grew into me.
But life moves forward. We’ll all learn new things, grow into new spaces. The Whig will remain in us. A cozy little bar, imposing to enter, impossible to leave behind.—Thanks Will Green