Woe Is I

Dear Bartender: All this talk about death. How do I know I will die?

They’ll never be able to prove that death will absolutely come to everyone. To whom could they prove it — if everyone were dead? You know what I’m saying?

Please don’t tell me it’s the martinis talking. I’ve only had several.

– P. Ossoffer.

Dear Phil: OK I won’t tell you it’s the martinis talking.

People ask me all the time how I know when it’s OK to serve someone another drink. Impeccable grammar isn’t enough.

I’ll cut you off when you refer to twelve martinis as “several.”

Now you know.

Forever Young

Dear Bartender: I have a nephew who thinks he’s going to become a bartender. You seem like an intelligent-ish guy. Please let him know that bartending is not a career with long-term benefits. I haven’t yet convinced him that he needs to get a real job.

– Sammy

Dear Uncle Sam: I doubt it will help, but you can tell your nephew the two known strategies for career bartenders to earn enough money after they get too old to tend bar:

1) Open your own bar.
2) Die.

He’ll just do what every bartender does: assume he’ll do #1 before #2 takes him by surprise.

There’s a lot more aging bartenders out there than there are new bars.

On Your (Maker’s) Mark

Dear Bartender: Two guys came into my bar. The first ordered a “Jack and Coke.” The second ordered a “Bourbon Coke.” I said, “Jack as well?” #2 said, “Uh, I said Bourbon. As in Kentucky? Duh.”

Ouch. What’s his deal?

– Bartendress

Dear Bartendress: Always give the customers what they ask for. This man did not ask for Tennessee Sour Mash. He asked for a punch in the nose.

Beat Me, Daddy, Eight To The Bar

Dear Bartender: My neighbor (a really sweet guy) keeps trying to get me to go swing dancing with him. Um… I went once. Isn’t that enough? I guess not because he keeps asking.

How do I tell him that I can think of better ways to spend a couple of hours?

– Me

Dear You: Next time he knocks on your door answer it in nothing but your bra and panties.

Match Game, Pt 6

Time for another Match Game, folks.

Harry knew he had only one chance to get Miss Tittimeyer to give him a passing grade; when he handed in his test, he slipped her a [BLANK].

A Model Daughter, Pt 2

Dear Bartender: I’m a lady bartender. There’s been a lot of controversy lately about models who are “too” thin. I work hard to maintain my figure. Even though I’m not a model I don’t appreciate people telling me that I’m “too” thin.

So what do I say to the man — not fat, btw — who comes up to my bar and demands a “skinny bitch”?

Offended?

– Skinny but not a bitch

Dear Not A Bitch: A “skinny bitch” is a vodka diet coke. Personally, I’m offended by anyone who can’t order a drink by a sensible name.

Exceptions are made for classics; Cape Cods, Screwdrivers & Cuba Libres can sit tight. Rose Kennedys and Skinny Bitches need to get a grip.

On The House

Dear Readers: Someone at my bar asked me the other day if I remembered the ad campaign for “That’s Salada Tea” — and the ingenious homonym that made it so memorable.

Someone else added “It’s Nut ‘n’ Honey.” Another stroke of marketing genius.

But when I vividly described my memory of Carroll O’Connor and Jean Stapleton in their respective Bunker characters doing a spot for Worcestershire sauce, everyone looked at me like I was crazy. Here’s how it went:

Archie (New York accent): Whatsh dis here sauce?
Edith: Yes.
Archie: No, what’s it called?
Edith: You just said it.
Archie: I said Whatsch dis here sauce?
Edith: Yes!

Uh… Readers, tell me: Did I make this up?

Steam Heat

Dear Bartender: As I walked into the steam room at my gym the other day, I’m pretty sure I interrupted some hanky-panky. I did my best to pretend I didn’t really notice, but what I really wanted was a way to tell them they didn’t have to stop on my account.

What could I have said that wouldn’t just make them more uncomfortable?

– Gym Bunny

Dear Bunny: How about that old gym staple, “Mind if I work in with you guys?”

Tina, Bring Me The Ax

Dear Bartender: My friend Andy is totally doing crystal meth all the time. I feel funny because it’s not like I’m not doing coke myself once/twice a week — usually on Sundays since I don’t have to be back at work till Tuesday.

I want to be his friend — but what’s a true friend to do?

Dear Cokehead: That depends on what you mean by “true friend.”

A true friend will be there for you, no matter how low you sink. In this case, I think it means catching his teeth as they fall out. Andy might want to make them into a necklace.

Never Pet a Burning Dog

Dear Bartender: I’ve just discovered your site. I want to be a part of this little online family but I do not have a question about a sexy niece, a slutty priest, Maryanne Mobley, a mannish wife, Republicans, Match Game or even sex with twins.

I very much want to keep up, but my life isn’t very interesting. Where do I start?

– Matilda

Dear Matilda: Start with your skankiest fantasy, then work your way down. Trog, you wanna buy this nice lady a double Screaming Nazi? You know, just to get things rolling.

Sticker Shock

Dear Bartender: When you go to a restaurant, you read the menu, right? When you shop for furniture, you look at the price tags. And when you hire a hooker, you haggle about the green before you get down to business.

So why do people walk into bars, order a vodka cran and only after it’s handed to them find out what the bartender expects them to pay?

– Just Mad

Dear Mad: You haggle with your hookers? Really? Haggling’s wearing. You don’t want a tired hooker, do you?

Your observation is excellent but your ire misplaced. Your relationship to your bartender isn’t the same as your relationship to your furniture salesman. It’s more like your relationship to your doctor.

Your doctor doesn’t warn you what it’ll cost, either.

On the Move

Dear Bartender: I’m being forced to choose: Kansas or North Carolina? They both have their pluses and minuses but I’d hate to think my five years in Wichita have left me no compelling reason to stay. I have really close friends here but I need to know: Can I be sure I’ll make more in a new location?

Dear Kansan: No, you can’t be sure. But no one is really forcing you to choose. They’re each only trying to offer compelling cases for their side.

You know what you want. Don’t be afraid of having wasted the last five years. No one in North Carolina will give a damn.