As she hands me the whiskey-sour, she flashes that smile all bartenders have trained themselves. It’s the smile that convinces you to tip an extra dollar; the smile that makes you fall in love. And sure enough, before I’ve taken my first drink, I’m reaching into my pocket through a few wadded-up bills.
Tip: Have your wallet in hand when ordering a drink. Bartenders pay more attention to you.
I’m here on a dare. On a Zen quest to become Tyler Durden. Watching the tension between every girl and guy in the room, listening to the chatter of gossip and drunken slurs, I’m here because if I sit at home for another hour I’ll bash my head into a wall. Whatever the reason, here I am leaning against the table with a drink in my hand and slightly moving to the dance beat. Another drink and I won’t care how awkward I look. Perhaps it doesn’t matter, because no one here seems to know what to do. Two guys stand with their beers, eyeing every pretty girl with cleavage and a short skirt. A few girls pass by the lookers trying not to make eye contact, but take the path that nearly brushes against them. At the table to my left, the girls eagerly watch for something to happen on the dance floor, while the only guy with them urges for more shots. The only one here that makes any sense is the dude dancing wildly by himself. His moves are comical and he’s slightly over-weight, but he’s smiling.
So I smile, because well, it’s genuine at this second.
Tip: Smile when you want to be attractive. Everyone pays more attention to you.
He’s still dancing, even as the people surrounding the dance floor giggle and make jokes. No one else is dancing, but I’m sure they all envy his courage. I sure as hell do. And then it happens. The bartender, the one all the men have now fallen in love with, she joins the man. I’ve rarely witnessed so many expressions at once. The men all glare at him, sizing up how they all deserve her instead. The girls all glare at her, wishing for someone to grab their hands and pull them out to the floor. Our lovely bartender smiles with a vibe of utter confidence and happiness. My man hasn’t seem to notice: he’s found joy in the beat.
So I smile again, because well, these two are currently my heroes. Three drinks later, long after my man has left, I’ve convinced half the room to dance along with me. Including the bartender. For the night, she is my partner.
Tip: Never wait for a genuine smile to find you on its own accord. Happiness pays more attention when you tip the extra dollar.