Making Friends

As I sip on my first beer of the day, I am finally beginning to feel the holiday spirit creep into me. Don’t get me wrong—the gifts, Christmas cookies, and egg nog were all nice. But cookies and egg nog will lead to extra laps around the track next month. And presents just haven’t meant as much as they had before I turned 12. At that seasoned age, Christmas presents no longer meant toys, and therefore they rapidly made the transition from being things I wanted to things I needed. When I was 10, I wanted that new G.I. Joe fighter jet. When I turned 12, I needed a new sweater. And there’s just not as much excitement in getting something that has a set use in its future. (I have a theory that this same rule also explains the difference between getting a new girlfriend and getting a new wife, but research is still being conducted on that.)

But now things have settled down a bit; my phone has stopped buzzing with phone calls and text messages from friends and distant family saying “Merry Christmas”; the relatives are still 3 hours or so away from getting here for dinner; and I find myself in front of the computer with a cold beer and internet poker at my disposal. I think that’s a lost verse of Bing Crosby’s “White Christmas.” But I digress.

Being in this holiday spirit, I feel I should bestow upon you, the reader, a special “On the Rocks” gift. And, being that I don’t receive a paycheck for writing this blog, I decided that a gift that doesn’t cost anything would be fitting. So I am giving you the gift of sage advice: Make friends with your bartenders and waitresses.

Sure, I know most of you already understand the importance of this. I would hope that a large number of our readers are veteran field generals of the bar scene. People who recognize the need to treat your servers well. Still, every season has a new crop of rookies and less-experienced players who are in need of some preparation and guidance. And that is the demographic I am speaking to with this time-tested truth.

My friends and I seemed to grasp this concept very early in our bar-going careers. I have sometimes likened us to the Edmonton Oiler hockey teams of the 80s that had so many players that were so good at a very young age. When we stepped into a nightspot, the fans knew they were about to get a great show.

Tipping well is a big part of this process. One of the earliest tricks we learned was that if you take care of the bartender, he or she is going to take care of you. We would show up for dollar drinks, get places at the bar, and be sure to add an extra dollar or two for the tip on each of the first couple of rounds. Before you knew what hit you, your rum and coke became rum and co. I have seen bartenders literally just splash coke into a cup full of liquor. They say real men don’t cry, but there is an exception to every rule.

Sunday night three of my good friends and I stepped out for a few beers, and I realized just how ingrained this idea of making friends with our servers had become. Twenty minutes after arriving at a local Irish pub/restaurant, we were being moved from the bar to “The General’s Room,” a private room with a big-screen Plasma on the wall and plush seats. Our waitress often sat down to b.s. with us, kept our beers topped off, and even served us after they called “last call” at 10. All of this with very little effort on our part, aside from friendly words and smiles. We went to a bar down the street next, and by the end of the night the female bartender there was cracking jokes with us, joining us at our seating area to chat and make sure our glasses were full. I stumbled into my apartment well-lit that night, and I’d only spent a grand total of about $35.

So there it is, my gift to you—Merry Christmas. Use it well during this holiday season (you can thank me later). Salud.