Dating female bartender
I want a refund." Be careful about mixed drinks though!
If you don't communicate through effective tonality, she'll just matter-of-factly try and remake your drink cause she thinks it's bad.
" As the stranger approached to take "his" dollar, my friend spun around and said "Hey, this is Jena.
She works here, and now you have to say thank you for that shot!
As many of you know I bartended for years and i've got the inside scoop on what it takes to hookup with the bartender of your choice.
I will never forget how the EMTs that frequented the first coffee shop I ever worked in took their medium hot chocolate and coffee in large cups to avoid spillage in the ambulance; that the Second Avenue subway contractor, who hadn't touched booze in eight years, preferred lemon in his water but no straw; that Janet in East Hampton liked to finish her first glass of North Fork Chardonnay before ordering the roast chicken, all the while glued to a romance novel.
Yes, bartenders are often hot, talkative, and charismatic, but remember these sometimes aren't women with spectacular career paths. Well, assuming you're looking for a serious relationship with a bartender, I find that a good thing to look at is her age. The first thing you've gotta do with a bartender is find a time when you can say some words to her without getting interrupted or hampering her ability to work.
In my experience, many of them bartend for a few years before moving on to better and better things, but there are also a good percentage of them that are just complete drunks without much of a future. Obviously, if the bartender is over the age of 30 it's a solid bet that she's a lifer and will bartend indefinitely. That means don't try to chat her up when she's super busy.
This means she might be sleeping till 4 or 5 pm some days.One night after I got off work, I reclined in the corner of the bar with a few coworkers and a bottle of wine. The shot began to sweat, or maybe that was me—we were both feeling overtly ignored.As we bantered, I noticed a handsome stranger nervously alight on a barstool and order a beer. Then, as if by divine fate, an unruly birthday party gathered around him, demanding drinks and jostling him out of his seat.For the better part of a year, I had a fake date every Friday night with the regular from upstairs.The last half hour of my shift, he would arrive and try to score his favorite seat, right at the end of the bar where he knew I would sit to eat my dinner and have a glass of wine. We laughed, we flirted, he occasionally brushed my arm or found an excuse to lean in closer.