Thinking Differently: Neuorodivergent Bartenders Thrive Behind the Stick

An excellent bartender possesses a distinct set of skills. They build drinks with meticulous precision. They keep multiple drink orders in their head in proper sequential order. They can engage in a wide range of topics and can nerd out on beverages at a moment’s notice. They can almost anticipate a guest’s needs.

A guest may remember a bartender who does all of these things long after the memory of their drinks has faded. What the guest may not expect, or even think possible, is that the bartender wielding these skills may be diagnosed as neurodivergent, a term used to describe people whose brain function causes them to think differently from what’s considered typical. While not every neurodivergent person is alike, people with conditions like attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) and autism spectrum disorder (ASD) tend to possess cognitive, creative, and observational traits that allow them to slide into a bartending role and thrive. Yet while a bartender’s role may be well suited for people who think differently, it’s not without a few sizable challenges.

Understanding the Brain, Understanding Themselves

When Veronica Flores was officially diagnosed with ASD and ADHD, she felt like a longstanding mystery was finally resolved.

“I was relieved,” says Flores, a bartender who oversees the Barrio Fino Pop-Up series in Austin. “It meant that I wasn’t this f*ck-up that read books at recess and struggled to make friends in school.”

Flores’ reaction encapsulates the sentiment that many neurodivergent bartenders possess. They embrace their condition because it reconciles their past and informs them of who they really are on both sides of the stick. They may even have a little fun with the diagnosis: Flores, for example, prefers to use the term “neurospicy” because she feels the neurodivergent community adds a unique societal flavor with their gifts and talents.

Sometimes, becoming a bartender can be the impetus that fully changes their perspective on their condition. As a boy in the 1990s, Tony Jimenez was diagnosed with ADHD and was put in a fog of school-administered meds intended to control his behavior. “By the 6th grade, I was on 5 to 6 grams of Ritalin and antidepressants,” says Jimenez, who tends bar at 1 Tippling Place and Almanac in Philadelphia. “This was before I hit puberty.”

The experience left him with a negative view of his neurodivergence. When he pivoted to bartending after growing tired of the rigidity of a university job he was working, his perspective on his condition followed suit. “I used to feel ashamed of my neurodivergence. Now I feel empowered by it,” he says. “I see it as a superpower because of the industry I’m in.”

Cognition and Recognition

There is no specific formula that allows neurodivergent bartenders to thrive, nor are there official quantifiers that specify their abilities. “We’re kind of like Pokemons,” Flores says. “The people on the spectrum all have different skills.”

Specifics aside, a neurodivergent bartender’s inherent ability to think differently can heighten the type of skills that may make a guest marvel. If their internal wiring leads them to hyperfocus on tasks, whipping up 12 different drinks with demanding specs while fielding a half-dozen new drink orders could be as effortless as making a single Vodka Soda. Their unique mental approach can also come in handy before or after hours. “Lots of people hate inventory,” Jimenez says. “But for people that like organization, it’s a fun day.”

Often, the ability to think differently translates into seeing things differently. This is particularly true regarding how neurodivergent bartenders directly interact with guests. The unique skills that may exist in their arsenal, such as an elevated attention to detail or an advanced ability to recognize patterns, may lead them to catch subtle clues in a guest’s behavior that signify a need to interact in a certain way. Some neurodivergent individuals may also have a heightened sense of empathy or social justice, a trait that could come from an intensified focus on rules and their impact. This could allow them to forge deeper connections with a guest quickly. “You can start to read people just by introducing yourself,” explains Julie Baetiong, consulting partner for Lemon in Chicago. “This is true regardless of where you’re at, from a bar at a fine-dining establishment to a dive.”

“There’s this perception that neurodivergent people are hard to train because we communicate differently. As a result, there are less opportunities for us to really flourish. It’s frustrating. Yes, I’m autistic, but it doesn’t mean people like me are not hard-working or extroverted, or don’t like to meet people.”

While a neurodivergent bartender’s ability to think differently can be impressive, the actions associated with that mindset could occasionally backfire. This can particularly manifest through miscommunication. “When I talk to someone, I try to be as forthright as possible and not passive-aggressive. I also ask a lot of clarifying questions,” says Flores. “This can sometimes be misconstrued as me trying to be problematic.”

When it comes to avoiding these hurdles, self-awareness can go a long way. When Emmanuelle Garcia took on the role of bar manager for The Waiting Room in Durham, N.C., they knew that their ADHD and ADS could be a potential issue with their staff. As such, they’ve worked hard to ensure people understand their neurodivergent tendencies, particularly when it comes to communication.

“I’ve told my staff that if my voice goes flat or monotone when I’m talking to them, it’s because I’m super focused on tasks,” they say. “It’s not because I’m mad at them or anything. Fortunately, they know that we’re all working toward the same destination, and I’m just taking the scenic route.”

Dealing With Dark Corners

While the bar industry presents a terrific place for neurodivergent folks to land, it’s far from perfect. Several misconceptions about how they function abound within the industry: They can’t interact with people. They’re difficult to train. They can’t handle situations outside normal given tasks. These falsehoods can interfere with a neurodivergent bartender’s work life and potential career growth.

“There’s this perception that neurodivergent people are hard to train because we communicate differently. As a result, there are less opportunities for us to really flourish,” explains Thomas Svensson, bartender at Rick’s Garage in Palmwoods, Queensland, Australia. “It’s frustrating. Yes, I’m autistic, but it doesn’t mean people like me are not hard-working or extroverted, or don’t like to meet people.”

The industry’s infamous temptations can also pose a threat. The easy access to alcohol and the industry’s higher susceptibility for substance abuse creates an environment where unhealthy coping strategies can develop for neurodivergent bar professionals when feelings of being out of place with the rest of the staff surface.

“The bar is a classic cocktail bar and lounge that functions as a true third place for the employees as well as the customers. It works because each employee is given the capacity and support to see the bar and its community differently.”

“Sometimes, they may turn to substance abuse to try and lose their inhibitions and feel ‘normal,’” Flores notes. “They may think things like, ‘I’ll just take a shot and I’ll feel better.’ The problem is, it’s hard to find the line between ‘I’m fine’ and ‘I’m drunk’ sometimes.”

In some cases, the industry’s environment can cause difficulties. While this can encompass sensory issues inside the bar, such as loud music or overhandling certain textures like melting ice, it can sometimes spill out beyond the bar and into industry gatherings. Avoiding the latter situation’s trappings can require proactive strategies. Flores, for instance, uses a stopwatch to track time spent at pop-ups and activations at industry events like Tales of the Cocktail to mitigate the potential for overstimulation.

Some neurodivergent bartenders note bullying by fellow staff and the occasional customer can take place. However, they acknowledge that being behind the stick can offer them a layer of protection that other roles in hospitality do not have.

“There’s a big difference between how guests react to a neurodivergent bartender compared to a neurodivergent server,” Jimenez says. “A server isn’t an intimate part of the guest experience, which leaves them more liable to being bullied. But because a bartender is such a big part of the experience, their behaviors could come across as them being fun and cheeky.”

The Need for Support

There’s been a significant increase in understanding neurodivergent conditions over the past several years thanks to improved access to data and better diagnostic procedures. This rise in knowledge generally coincides with a decrease in the stigma that surrounded conditions like ADHD and ASD in the past. Unfortunately, this dynamic hasn’t sufficiently trickled down into the hospitality industry, and bar owners and managers who ignore the needs of neurodivergent staff or remain rigid on how tasks should be completed could inadvertently create an environment ranging from unwelcome to hostile.

“I wanted to create an open dialogue about neurodiversity and take out the stigma of being neurodivergent as much as possible. I don’t want these conversations to end any time soon.”

Baetiong’s own experience with these situations as a neurodivergent bartender, along with similar stories she’d heard about from others, compelled her to underwrite industry change. She became an investment partner at Lemon, a bar and entertainment lounge project emphasizing fair and accommodating treatment of its bar staff. The project caught the eye of Chicago’s neurodivergent bartending scene, which helped fill the bar’s job openings — Baetiong says a healthy chunk of the current staff is neurodivergent. Such commitment to the staff, neurodivergent and otherwise, has paid off: Lemon received a regional Tales of the Cocktail nomination in 2024 for Best New Bar in the Central United States.

“The bar is a classic cocktail bar and lounge that functions as a true third place for the employees as well as the customers,” she says. “It works because each employee is given the capacity and support to see the bar and its community differently.”

The Strength of Support

Last year, Flores co-organized a “neurospicy” meet-up at Tales. It was a rousing success, and she is planning to host another gathering at Tales this July. “I wanted to create an open dialogue about neurodiversity and take out the stigma of being neurodivergent as much as possible,” she says. “I don’t want these conversations to end any time soon.”

These conversations, and the communal support organically stemming from meet-ups like Flores’s, are vital for keeping the neurodivergent bartending community strong. In 2025, they may also be underscored with a sense of urgency due to an uneasy intersection between science and politics. A 2020 study published in the journal Nature Communications reported that neurodivergent individuals are three to six times more likely to identify as nonbinary or transgender than their neurotypical counterparts. Some feel this correlation could stem from the neurodivergent brain’s functionality. “People with ASD don’t necessarily register gender norms,” says Svensson, who, like Garcia, identifies as they/them. “Because of the way their minds work, they look at their bodies differently.” (For the record, Flores identifies as she/her/they).

This statistic adds a different dimension to the neurodivergent conversation. Given the current presidential administration’s open hostility toward the LGBTQ+ community — and nonbinary and trans communities specifically — this link should not be undersold. If anything, the administration’s disturbing rhetoric should sound a high-decibel alarm that compels good people to rally in support of neurodivergent individuals and their different way of thinking, regardless of their sexual orientation or gender identification.

The Terms of the Condition

The Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) classifies neurodivergence as a disability. For some neurodivergent bartenders, this classification helps them better reconcile certain behaviors that can be interpreted as obstacles.

“In my experience, I feel like it’s a disability whenever it gets in the way of my job or my life,” Garcia says. “Those are the times where my mix of ADHD and ASD can feel paralyzing.”

For the most part, though, the disability classification takes a back seat to specifically being considered neurodivergent, and with good reason. It’s a term that provides them with self-reflective insight. It’s also a condition that helps shape their being, which is ultimately most important.

“I’m grateful for my brain and the perspective it gives me,” Svensson says. “It’s beautiful to see things differently. I certainly wouldn’t be who I am without it.”