Guy walks into a bar. It’s packed: a Flyers post-game at a stadium watering hole, Saturday night in Old City or local Monday afternoon at the neighborhood tavern. You’ve been waiting ten minutes to be recognized by the bartender, while the entire staff converges upon the dude who just walked in. They know him by name. They know his drink. It’s waiting for him before the request can even come forth from his lips, with a free shot on the side and an upside-down glass in the back. It seems the bar staff actually likes him, not that faux-like you always seem to receive. That man, with the special treatment and greasy palm, he’s a regular.
The bad news is that bar patrons are not created equal, and that the regular is going to get drinks faster, cheaper and better than the dollar tipper with the bad attitude. The good news is everybody has an equal opportunity to become one of these mythic creatures. All it requires is a little manners, a little money, and to quote Erasure, a little respect. For barflies that follow these commandments, practiced by all good regulars, a kingdom of extra-long pours, free drinks and preferred status awaits.
I. Thou shalt not get a bartender’s attention by yelling “BARTENDER!”
Prohibited variations on this expletive includes barkeep, barmaid and Young Flanagan. It’s rude and demeaning. Tell the bartender your name and ask for theirs. Then use it.
II. Thou shalt have thy order ready.
Nothing’s more annoying than serving an impatient patron, who upon receiving his or her drinks, has to fish around in his or her pockets/wallet/purse/bra searching for cash. Is it that hard to get money out and ready while the drinks are being made? In the past, I’ve had customers that flagged me down like a maniac in prime-time busy hours, only to have them count out their bills like elderly bank tellers with rheumatoid arthritis. Regulars start a tab--or better yet--kitty up. A pile of money right on the bar that the bartender can access easily is the best bet for speedy, efficient service.
IV. Thou shalt tip (well) on the first round.
If you’re planning on spending the evening at one bar, stick you and your group in the same spot serviced by the same bartender. After you order the first round, throw the bartender a $20 tip no matter how so-so, slow or surly the service. Shut up. Just do it. You won’t die, I promise. Watch how Andrew Jackson makes all things better. Drinks will appear faster, occasionally without charge. There will be a line of people waiting for service, but the bartender will come to straight to you, the patron who was smart enough to tip ahead of time. After the first round, no need to tip again until you leave. Reward good service before departing with another $10 or $20.
V. Thou shalt banish the Cape Codder, Greyhound, Screwdriver, and Cuba Libre from thy vocabulary.
Call them vodka and cranberry; vodka and grapefruit; vodka and orange; and rum and coke; respectively, you douche.
VI. Thou shalt not flirt in excess.
Guess what? The leggy blonde bartender with the painted-on jeans and coquettish eyes that’s been flirting with you all night? Chances are, she’s interested in what’s inside your wallet, not your hopes and dreams. Flirting is part of tending bar, so feel free to reciprocate, just don’t take it the wrong way and don’t get aggressive. And on the off chance said leggy blonde is into you, don’t ruin it by telling her how great her ass is while your buddies high-five. Save that stuff for after-hours.
VII. Thou shalt make small talk.
A slight variation on the last commandment. Nobody likes the slow death of small talk. It’s like watching the final episodes of Friends (Joey and Rachel--c’mon!). But, like flirting, it’s part of the bartender’s job to chat you up, so the least you can do is pretend to be the engaging, interesting human being you wish you were and reciprocate with some thoughts on McNabb’s health, California chardonnay or your recent trip to India. Any topic is fair game, except for religion and politics.
VIII. Thou shalt not assume
Don't assume the bartender knows how to make the Caramel Pomegranate Sunset Breeze Martini you had somewhere last weekend. They’re called specialty drinks for a reason.
IX. Thou shalt not order a Cosmo.
Regardless of gender. This rose-colored ‘tini is about as cool as Cynthia Nixon’s haircut. Let’s put it to bed already.
X. Thou shalt mind thy manners.
Your mother was right: please and thank you goes a lot longer than any tip.
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