There really isn’t much to do on open weekends for childless struggling adults. Granted many of us work straight through most weekends, or we occasionally have engagements and obligations that fill these days. There are also many hobbies that we can dedicate our precious days away from work toward. I used to enjoy putting my time toward fishing, hunting and all kinds of other sporting activities. This is all good, I would love to have the money and position to get back into these again this winter. Almost nobody is where they want to be career wise, time could be dedicated toward this as well. There is an endless amount of stuff I can think about that we are all basically to willing to put off. This post isn’t about the better shit we could be doing. This post is geared toward the allure of the strawberry collinic, and it’s not so pleasant aftertaste. I have often felt this cold feeling in my lower intestine toward giving my money to bars. When you really sit down and think about it, there are over a billion ways in which bars are robbing us of our (in most cases) hard earned money. I’m not going to be able to write about all of the billions of reasons, but I will talk about some of them that chap my hide.
The first and most obvious one that everyone has at one point pondered is the prices. I can’t think of any other time where paying only double what something is worth is considered the “Happy Hour.” Then the rest of the night while paying four or five times what something is worth is still considered a good time. Don’t misunderstand this, going out is fun, but… Well to be honest there is even a slight thrill in spending money on yourself, but that’s when you get something material like a new cell phone, a checkers board or a chewbacca mask. When you go the bar, what exactly are you paying for? I think the con is that they provide such an amazing atmosphere that it is fair to charge exorbitant prices. I suppose at some point they had to pay for all the stupid shit on the walls and such, but I almost never find a bar that is so awesome that I don’t feel guilty about the money I spent there. We need to go old school and bring back backyard parties, cabin weekends, house parties and barbeques. Another thing that bugs me is that they pay less for the booze since they buy it in bulk. It’s easy to argue that people come and spend the money, so good for them, but fuck them! This gouging is like playing whore for a Duke lacrosse team.
Another thing I recall from my single days is that there is always that allure of hooking up and getting laid. Well let’s be honest this doesn’t happen that often, even for the better players in that game. Not to mention the type of gals who are dumb enough to go and get liquored up and screw generally come with a rash. It’s kind of like the moped, fun to ride but you don’t want your friends to see you on it. Specifically I mean ugly on the outside, none of that inside personality crap. Even if you do manage to find a good one they are usually in group of friends that would prevent them from going home with an idiot like you anyway. All that aside, unless it’s some mythical raw physical attraction it’s pretty damn hard to have a convincing conversation in a busy bar anyways. So we are basically hoping for a scene from some porno to play out in this mediocre bar where barely any words can lead to the three position porn structure back at wherever you bring her. Which brings up the point that at most bars you have to find transportation home or pre plan and all that stuff.
Bars also sport some major inadequacies. Bartenders are more than often than not, arrogant jerks that take forever to get your drink. Let us also be bluntly honest about a few things. Bartenders are known to generally make some good money, but what are they more than a glorified McDonald’s front desk worker. In fact all they really do is take an order turn around and pour liquid into a cup. Obviously there are a few other things, but really why do they deserve so much in tips. You don’t have to tip on take-out… McDonald’s gets big rushes and super busy too but we don’t ever think to tip them and talk about how they “really” earn it. In fact at McDonald’s the servers stand there through thick and thin with a smile and bend over backwards to please the customer. We wait longer at the bar and there is no order to the whole system as far as who is first. Mix in their arrogance and cheap selection; I barely tip this variety anymore. (There are some good ones, I’m referring to the majority over the minority in this article) This might not be true if you are the girl willing to spill her cleavage all over the sticky wet bar top, but for the average person we are treated like a second class citizen while we stand there until we are hurriedly and rudely snapped at to spit out our order. How often do we wait while some loser who can’t even convince his own hand to sex him, plays cutesy with chicks before serving them first, second and third before us. This happens a lot. If you call it out, you are often asked to leave. People will argue about how busy they are wine wine wine wine, but if the bar cared about fast friendly service they would staff more people behind that slab of wood. The truth is the bartender wants to be the only one because he/she knows the dogma established with tips and wants to be the only one there to absorb all the benefits. This way they get to play victim actor in the elaborate catch 22 where they run around as the busy sob story yet collect enormous amounts of money for the preplanned inadequate service to the busy crowd pouring their hours of work into small ice filled cups.
We are supposedly paying for this awesome atmosphere, but as soon as they provide something nice like live music or a comedian or whatever… guess what they do, enact an extra cover charge. Hmm what are my overpriced drinks and slow service getting me? Seldom do we find nice favors like peanuts any longer either.
I guess it can be concluded that there are just people who will only feel good about themselves if they get dressed up so that they can be seen in public. I don’t fully understand it, but the truth is attention is the real drink of choice for the true bar lover. If you watch people who spend too much time in bars and become quote unquote, regulars you will see what happens. They develop what I call Puff’s Disease. They become ugly and get fat in all kinds of odd places. Other symptoms are sagging necks, big stomachs paired with small or droopy chests, wrinkled skin, confused eyes and legs that remain mostly normal. I believe it has something to do with a mitochondrial change. So be careful and aware of how much time and money you contribute to these life traps.
So on the way out, don’t tip your bartender! (unless they are exceptional, so we can end this preconceived notion of undeserved reward destroyed and forgotten)