Zen and the Art of Getting Better Tips

Hello, Readers!

So, I've noticed that many the blogs I follow that have been around for awhile have a good name for their followers. I don't have enough of you to field a decent baseball team yet, so I don't think we're there. I am taking suggestions for when I hit double-digits, however, so send any suggestions. It's what I'm going to be calling YOU, after all, so choose wisely.

But, I digress. Often.

What I actually wanted to talk about today was a new trend I've been seeing in the evolution of the bartender. To further clarify, this phenomenon seems to take place almost solely in sports bars and wing and beer franchises.

I went out with some of my bandmates last night to a Buffalo Wild Wings, which is your standard haven for fried, gut-busting food, college football and hockey on about seven thousand televisions (you literally can't look in any direction without seeing at least four flat-screens, I was impressed), and throngs of college or just post-college kids looking to get hammered and possibly make terrible decisions with a member of the opposite sex. Ahhhh . . . youth.

I must also note that for a wing franchise, this place has one of the best selections of truly good beer I have ever seen. On the strength of that alone, I can see myself doing this again.

What I found strange, however, was the demeanor of the bartender who served us for most of the night. She was a beautiful girl, as bartenders tend to be, and gregarious, which also fits the job description. As the night went on, however, I noticed that her behavior on the job reminded me of a different trade altogether.

Yeah. She reminded me of a stripper. Straight up.

To explain - the young lady wasn't giving dudes lap dances in the men's restroom or gyrating wildly to a Lady GaGa song or anything. I'm not saying she gave off slutty vibes or any of that. It was completely in her method of conversation and how she reacted to all the guys at the bar. She was constantly leaning over the bar to talk in someone's ear, smiling little seductive smiles. She would lean over and steal a bit of food off someone's plate, and make a coquettish joke about it. She tried very hard to cross the typical line of "Here's your beer, give me your money, and stop looking at my chest" that you usually see in a female bartender.

I was half expecting to hear her tell me she was only doing this so she would pay her way through law school.

The whole thing sort of made me a bit uncomfortable, like it does in strip clubs. I tend to dislike strip clubs a great deal - solely on the fact that I hate dishonesty. If a pretty stripper said to me, "Look, I don't think you're cute or even all that interesting. I also have no interest in you sexually. I make more money in a half-hour than you probably do all day, and I'm only on your lap so I can afford good weed and Ketel One by the gallon, to take away the soul-crushing malaise this job brings me in exchange for relative wealth",  I would probably give her the contents of my wallet and hit the ATM, as well.

That said, I think bartending is akin to a holy profession. They are the priests of our bar culture. They dispense the stuff that binds us all together, lets us release our inhibitions and have a great time, and yes - possibly make serious mistakes with members of the opposite sex. I already think you're awesome, and as long as you do your job well,  I will TIP THE HELL OUT OF YOU. So please, stay behind the bar and keep your fucking hands off my Parmesan Garlic wings. Thanks.