The foursome didn’t really come in hot. And they weren’t really coming in happy either. It was odd from the get-go. For me, and eventually for them too.
We see all kinds of groupings from behind the bar. Boys’ nights out, girls’ nights out, date nights; one really gets a bird’s eye view of the entire range of human romantic interactions. This one appeared to be two sets of friends out on the town. It was an easy assumption to make. And it was not the correct one.
They found four barstools and sat down just as one might expect. Boy, girl, boy, girl. Two espresso martinis, and two craft draft beers. It was so normal as to be almost mundane, until I set the drinks down.
Instead of the beers going to the gentlemen, and the drinks going to the ladies, it was a drink for one of the men, a drink for one of the women, and the same breakdown for the beers.
Typically, when one gets the double couple date night sitting at the bar, either the men are better friends or the women are. This grouping was unusual, because it appeared that the man and woman in the middle were the better friends, and they weren’t a couple.
Bartenders sometimes get a bad rap for being judgmental. And we are, about things that really matter. Things like one’s level of intoxication or their legal age. Things most bartenders could care less about are one’s relationship status and their opinion on shaking vs. stirring.
Just about then, a song came on the overhead speakers that elicited squeals from the couple in the middle.
“Let’s dance,” said the inner woman.
Which was a weird thing to say in a place that doesn’t have a dance floor.
Nonetheless, the inner couple got up and danced. It was all fun and games. And in the bar business, that’s usually pretty good. Until it isn’t.
“You guys seem like you’re really having fun,” said outside-man, when the dancers sat down.
“Well, you never dance,” said inside-woman. “And he does.”
A similar conversation was happening between outside-woman and inside-man.
It reminded me of the internecine workplace affair. The people involved always think they are being discreet. The funny thing is that everyone else always knows.
“Do you think they are having an affair?” outside-woman eventually asked outside-man, as their respective spouses bumped and ground.
“I’m not sure anymore,” he answered.
“Would you two like something else to drink?” I interjected, as bartenders so often do.
They both looked up at me.
“What do you think?” the outside-woman asked me.
“What do you mean?” I asked, knowing full well what she meant.
“Do you think those two are having an affair?” she said, pointing at the woman doing a backbend in the aisle while a husband frontbended over her.
“Do I think they are?” I queried back.
“Yes, do you think they are?” repeated the outer man, exasperated by the parsing.
“No, I don’t think that they are,” I said, answering honestly.
And when I say honestly, I mean honestly, because I didn’t think that they were having an affair. I knew it. Which is altogether different. Because while I might not have known the non-couple in front of me, I was certainly familiar with the other one bumping and grinding.
Leaving me with these thoughts:
• Be sure to ask the right questions; that way, one will always get the right answers.
• Most bartenders are not judgmental. But they aren’t blind either.
• “Discretion is the better part of valor,” decried the coward Falstaff in Shakespeare’s Henry IV.
• The old joke goes: “Be nice to the bartender because we know your wife. And your girlfriend too.” To which I might now add, “We also know your wife’s boyfriend and his wife as well.” Just saying.
Jeff Burkhart hosts ‘The Barfly Podcast.’ More at jeffburkhart.net.
