Stalk Options

Dear Bartender: I may have earned myself a stalker.

He’s a friend of some friends I’m staying with for the week. At first I thought he was kinda cute, in a dorky way… He gave me a ride home from a concert, came up to my room, we talked… Said he’d meet us out at the pub later…

After a long night out at the bar I figured why not and took him back to my room for a toss. Bartender, he was HORRIBLE. Rarely is sex truly bad… but ugh. Bad, bad, bad.

He will be at my friends’ party tonight. And — aaugggh! — he just now sent me a text message.

Help! How do I ditch him???!

– Stalked

Dear Stalked: Don’t avoid him. He’ll think you’re playing cute. Or worse, he’ll think you’re mad at him and he’ll pester you endlessly about what he did wrong.

Reply to his text message but stop in mid-sentence — as if you were too distracted by other things to notice. Do this twice if necessary.

When you see him tonight, greet him cheerfully. After a pause, ask him if he travels much. Tell him he’ll have to give you a heads-up if he ever visits your city. Smile. Walk away.

Then find someone better to do.

…The Player You Get

Dear Bartender: I think I’m wired differently than most people. When I don’t drink, I’m able to stay numb and impervious to the shit that life throws at me. However, after knocking back a few, I don’t get numb or forgetful — just the opposite. I guess I make a shitty alcoholic. So whatcha think…are there 12 steps in my future?

Signed,

Sober and Numb

Dear Not-so-numb: Just because drinking makes you miserable doesn’t make you an alcoholic. Maybe you’re just an angry drunk. Angry drunks only need however many steps get them out out of the bar and into a cab. I suggest you take a stool near the door.

What’s the definition of insanity again?

Dear Bartender: I go this bar frequently, but the bartender is really mean. Yesterday, I simply asked him for a pen to write down something and he just refused to hand me one. Also, he’s rude to my friends.

What do I do about this dude?

-adam

Dear adam: Unfriendly people should not become bartenders; they should become lunch ladies, divorce attorneys, traffic cops or nuns.

Yet apparently they sometimes do become bartenders.

And now you seem to be stuck with one. (It’s the only bar in town, right? Or your friends all go there, or it’s the only place that doesn’t ask for I.D. or you live upstairs and can’t resist how easy it is to stumble home after last call? There’s gotta be a reason you’ve ruled out simply going someplace else.)

What were you writing down? His phone number?

You know, now that I think about it, if you insist on going back to this bar, maybe from now on you should just bring a pencil.

Aptitude Test

Dear Bartender: I’m 18 years old and i’m looking to bartend while going to school. My question is: Do you really make about $300 a night or around there anyway?

Dear Wannabe: Send me a naked pic and I’ll let you know.

You reap what you ho

Dear Bartender: I was DEEPLY offended by Don Imus’s remarks about Rutgers basketball players being nappy-headed hos. I personally am extremely nappy headed and have been known to act pretty whorish, especially in the spring! I know I’m not the first nappy-headed ho to take offense at the disgusting Mr. Imus, but my confusion lies in that I am completely and utterly and embarrassingly white. So I’m not exactly sure why I’m offended. Being white, I can’t really personally be offended from a racial standpoint. He wasn’t even referring to me personally AT ALL. I even entertained the thought that perhaps I was offended by those things that made me a nappy-headed ho, but I’m very out-loud and proud my kinky hair and slutty behavior for which I’m occasionally compensated monetarily.

Ultimately, I’m glad the bastard got fired because I think he might be Jewish. Anyway, can you help me understand why I’m so outraged by the self-proclaimed shock-jock?

– Twisted and for Sale

Dear Hooker: You don’t want the competition. You’re a big enough girl to admit it.

Count Chockula

Dear Bartender: I’m making chocolate martinis this weekend. My recipe calls for Godiva Dark Chocolate Liqueur, but that stuff is $30 a bottle, and I need at least the whole bottle.

Are there any good, inexpensive substitutes for this?

Thanks in advance.

– Steve

Dear Steve: You can get away with a cheap chocolate liqueur — even the cheapest one out there — as long as you’re using a decent vodka.

You didn’t mention what the rest of your recipe is, but for the record, here’s mine:

1.5 oz vanilla vodka
.5 oz chocolate liqueur
.25 oz of Kaluha
Splash of whole milk (optional)

Yum.

That Old-Fashion Love

Dear Bartender: OK I got news for you. It’s 2007. Get with the times, man. Your weblog is visually like totally fucking dull. Get with the 2.0, dude! You got the content. So make with the cake and make this site visually va-va-voom!

Dear Critic: Every site that gets any traffic whatsoever is a target for spammers. They’ve gotten good at postings that are disguised as friendly compliments (“great site, keep up the good work!” “Hi! I wish more people felt this way and took the time to express themselves!” “Fantastic site! Check out mine!”).

At least when they compliment me on my dynamo graphics, etc., I know they’re full of shit.

There’s comfort there. I take what I can get.

It’s Gonna Get Ugly

Dear Bartender: I’m a guy in his late twenties and I’ve been dating this woman in her mid twenties for the past 6 months. We both have professional jobs in nyc.

She told me she was once a bartender at various go-go bars. That was all well and good in the past, but quiet frankly I’m not the type of person typically attracted to women in these types of job because of the drama such a place brings like phone calls and text messages from random guys at all hours of the night.

She is looking to make some extra cash to pay off her debts quickly and told me about a bar tending gig in a coyote ugly type of place minus the bar dancing. She invited me to come to her first night but told me she could not treat me nor could I act like her boyfriend. I’m a little taken back by this. She tried to reassure me this is necessary for her to maximize her tips and this is how it is at any bar.

Is this true? And am I right to feel upset and slightly pissed at being treated like I’m no one as well as walking into her bar and seeing some drunk prick putting the moves on her?

What kind of compromise can I present to her so she can make the extra cash she needs and I don’t feel the insecurities of other men trying to take home my girl? I also fear that sleazy money-hungry attitude will bleed over into our personal life. Is it that easy to turn it on and off?

Sincerely,

confused and concerned

Dear c&c: What are you doing at this bar? Stay away and let her do her work. Your g.f. is right. And she sounds like a true pro. So don’t worry about her bringing any money-hungry attitude home with her. She just wants to get out of debt. Please congratulate her for me.

I sympathize that it won’t be easy for you, but remember: If you treat her like a human being and not a piece of meat, you’ll have the highest place of honor in her heart. She doesn’t want to go home with any of those drunk pricks; she wants to come home to you.

And if you want it to stay that way, I have a side piece of advice: You say you’re not “typically attracted to women in these types of jobs.” If you continue to see your g.f. as a “type of woman” and not the girl you love, she’ll leave you in a heartbeat.

You don’t think it looks a little… punk?

Dear Bartender: Should I keep dying my hair, or let it go gray? What do men think of gray hair anyway?

– Blue in Los Angeles

Dear Blue: Not all men think alike; all men think alike. Sounds like a contradiction but it’s not.

Gray hair = wisdom. Wisdom = power.

Dye your hair. If you wanna mix it up you could change colors every two weeks. Men may not like their women powerful but they do like a little mystery.

Tuckered Out

Dear Bartender: This is gonna sound dumb, but I have a real challenge with my wife. She doesn’t tuck her clothes all the way in the dresser drawers, leaving parts of them showing and hanging out. It drives me nuts as I feel compelled to tuck the clothes in. (I know, I’m being ridiculous, right?) Anyway, I’m hesitant to bring it up with her for fear of her pointing out my shortcomings. I should just get over it, right? Nobody’s perfect, keep it to myself. Agreed?

– Frank

Dear Frank: Shit, when I first read this I thought your wife had trouble keeping her clothes tucked into her “drawers” — as in underpants. That would be an easier question to answer. No one should be tucking anything into their underpants, right? (Trog, don’t answer that.)

You obviously have too many clothes stuffed into the drawers, that’s why your wife can’t make everything fit. Stop wearing underwear. She’ll have that much more room for her own stuff.

Bitch for a Day

Dear Bartender: Today I want to be a bitch. I think everyone should get one day or one week every year where they get to say whatever is on their minds without censoring themselves and no one gets offended because 1) they know that it’s just “that day” and 2) they get to have “that day” themselves. So I’m going to scream at the person who jumps out of line behind me to be first in the new checkout line at the supermarket. I’m going to snore loudly in church if the sermon is dull. If my mother is smart she won’t call me and ask (again) if I had a happy childhood!!

And I’m going to tell you, bartender, exactly what I think of the next drink you make me. Brace yourself!

Dear Wantstobeabitch: Not in my bar, you won’t. Get the fuck out.