These words were typed on a thin sheet of paper in my grandfather’s wallet when he passed away in the late 1960s. He spent the early part of his life in a hotel, run by his family.
A licensee must be a democrat, an autocrat, acrobat, a doormat. He must be able to entertain Prime Ministers, pick-pockets, pirates, philantrophists and police – and be on both sides of the political fence – a footballer, golfer, bowler, tennis player, darts champion and pigeon fancier.
He has to settle arguments and fights, he must be a boxer, wrestler, weightlifter, sprinter and peacemaker.
He must always look immaculate when drinking with bankers, swankers, commercial travellers, and company representatives, even though he has just stopped a beer-throwing contest in the public bar.
To be successful he must keep the bars full, the house full, the tanks full, the storeroom full and not get himself full.
He must have barmen who are clean, honest, quick workers and thinkers, non-drinkers, mathematicians technicians and who are at all times on the boss’s side, the customer’s side, and stay on the bar’s inside.
To sum up – he must be outside, inside, offside, glorified, sanctified, crucified, stupefied, crosseyed, and if he’s the strong silent type – there’s always suicide.
There are various version of this on the internet. The original author is unknown.