Ah, the life of a bartender… the money is great, the hours are easy, I’m in control (which suits me, since I’m a top), and I have more phone numbers on napkins than you have friends on MySpace.
I’ve been in the service industry for 11 years, and I’m here to tell you — the bar scene is a popular one no matter how shitty the economy. But, if you are out spending your hard-earned money on a night you hope to forget, at least do it in style. I know all and see all from a very different — very sober — point of view. So before venturing out for a fierce boys’ night, a casual evening with the girls, or even those naughty nights that end up at After Hours for “one more” dance, drink, or forbidden bathroom break, know this…
Lesson one: Know what you want.
If you have been standing in line for 10 minutes and finally make it up to my bar, and I ask you what you want, and you say, “ I don’t know (giggle giggle),” you will be lucky to get the stare and not a smack upside the head. You don’t know? What do you mean you don’t know? It’s NOT cute. Here is your Coors Light and shot of Jagermeister; enjoy your 21st birthday. Yay! I know this may sounds harsh, but I’m just keeping it real.
Lesson two: Order the right thing.
When ordering a martini, do not — I repeat, DO NOT — ask me for “a martini” because all you are going to get is a blank stare (and probably an ID check). Aw, a martini. Really? OK, vodka or gin, olive or twist, sweet or sour, blah or blah. If you order a Cosmo, you better be over 30, and if you order a Pomegranate, you better be as boring as I just pinned you. Ladies (and a few of you gents) in the martini line, take notice of the sassy and sophisticated diva who orders a classic gin gimlet, extra lime, super-shaken, up.
Lesson three: Don’t “wine” about it.
If you are a wine drinker — wonderful, but act like one. Never, ever, order a “house” anything: not vodka, not gin, and especially not wine! I understand about budgeting, but for God’s sake people, is saving a dollar a drink worth feeling like a train ran through your bedroom in the morning? (I understand that for some of you, a “train” did run through your bedroom. Go get ‘em, boys!) Wine drinkers, look at a list. If you’re pinching pennies, pick out the least expensive wine, pronounce it correctly, and order like you know what you are doing. I’ll appreciate that and possibly over-pour you since I just short-poured the cheap guy who ordered a “House Merr-lot.” For those of you taking notes here, Barefoot Wine is the way to go. Trust me.
Lesson four: Pick the perfect beer.
I’ll skip any girl chugging a Miller Lite and head for my hottie sipping a Blue Moon. It shows a lot about her: She may look sweet and innocent, but is filled with unique hints of wild nights and pillow fights. Lets face it, if you are going to ruin your beer by adding fruit, make it an orange! Why, you ask. Well, because I like oranges. So, there it is. A few life lessons for you beauties on the other side of my bottles. Make me proud. Cheers!