Calm Down There, Bartender

Every hipster bartender in San Francisco can take turns tweezing the hairs from my undercarriage. Every week there’s some new speakeasy-style cocktail bar popping up in the city, and sure shootin’ there is some smug suspender-clad dippity-doo with a waxed mustache trying show off his God-like abilities with a julep strainer. Calm down there buddy, no need for the pomp – your job is to combine liquids that eventually get filtered through some college student’s tired kidneys and end up in a puddle in the bathroom stall.


“Hey barkeep, let’s see some of those fancy mop tricks!”

The thing that really chaps my ass is the part where bartenders slam the shakers together as if to say: “HEY EVERYBODY WATCH ME I’M ABOUT TO DO THAT THING I DO WITH THE ICE NOW!” Earth to bartender, you are the only person in the solar system who thinks shaking ice looks cool – what you don’t see is your cheeks jiggling around like you’re trying to land a plane with potatoes for wheels. I liken it to a cashier doing a spin move every time the register opens. That shit ain’t cool, knock it off!

You know, sometimes people just want a simple cocktail with some well liquor and a lime wedge – they don’t need all this mad scientist, cirque du soleil-swinging-from-the-ceiling-fan balderdash just to combine the ingredients into a glass. Just a thought.


2 thoughts on “Calm Down There, Bartender

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