Ask a Bartender

"A man walks into a bar..." Oh Jesus, not another fucking bar joke. I’ve heard them all, multiple times, shit I wrote a few of 'em. Yeah, I’m a career bartender. Yeah, been doing it a while. Yeah, most of my friends are career bartenders, even my wife was a BT when I met her. We are a breed set apart that flock together. We are born with the talent. (You can’t teach the touch.) It’s not so much about the drink, but how we sell it. We learn from those who precede us and teach those who follow. It’s a job we make look easy, and it should. We are the masters of deception, more than concoction. We laugh at your jokes, even though we’ve heard them many times before. We root for your team, even if we could give a flying fuck to a rolling donut about sports. We nod our heads and seem interested in your problems when we really could care less and wish you’d just get a life. We know all about how to get - your - money. We earn your trust; we guide you choices; our influence can make or break the popularity of a product. You don’t believe me? Why the hell are you kids drinking Fernet? Because it tastes good? Or is it because a group of BT’s convinced you in his/her individual way that it’s "The Thing" to drink. What ever happened to Red Hook? Think about it a bit....... What ever, I’ve got knowledge, and I’ve heard you got questions, so go ahead, shoot, I’m ready.... One thing: Don’t ask me what’s in a fucking Gorilla Fart or other retarded college drinks. I don’t know them, I don’t care to, and you got a fucking computer. Look em up on the 'net. I’m here to answer your questions on "bar etiquette,",or booze history, or maybe you had a question about a happening at your local and want to know my views on it. If your a BT, love to hear some stories, or even questions from you. I’m new to this, but look forward to the medium. And, never forget: I’m the bartender. What I says goes or you go home sober.

Signed: Marc Meighwurds

Dear Marc Meighwurds,

This really happened: Last week I walked into a bar and ordered a Sex on the Beach. The bartender (who was totally staring at my tits) then leaped over the bar and said, "Alright! Let’s go!" Unfortunately, my first instinct was to slap him, which I admit was an overreaction, but then the asshole actually 86-ED me!!! I mean, WTF? Didn’t he sort of have it coming? Talk about NO sense of humor!!! Who’s the real asshole here? Me or him?

Sincerely,
A Titillating Bar Patron

Dear TBP:

How far did you have those tits of yours hanging out? Jesus, this guy must have been fuckin horny and drunk, not to mention young, to go springing over a bar top, to flirt with pair of tits. Was he an asshole? No, he’s an idiot. The dreaded 86 is not to be used when the fruits of you manly influence is a bruised ego. Besides, how does one score with tits you’ve just red carded? Assholes are cruel. This guy’s an idiot.

Here’s some bar trivia: the term 86’d, I’ve heard a few of the stories, one is a certain bar in Greenwich Village, during prohibition, had a back door they’d throw drunks and unsavories out, and the address of that door was "86", another is that again during prohibition, if the bartender didn’t know you, he’d serve you the 86 proof, saving the stronger stuff for his regulars, and last, during the gold rush, if you got to drunk, the bartender, would switch you off the strong stuff, and on the 86 proof. Speaking of drinks, why the hell would anyone order a "Sex on the Beach?" That’s a drink for kids who don’t want to taste their booze. and if you don’t like the taste of booze, dont fucking drink. So, you too my dear, are an idiot, find a grown up drink, and ya' might get grown up responses from your bartender.

Signed: Marc Meighwurdz

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