Busy night behind the bar. They’re coming in groups of four, of five. I’m working with a seasoned bartender, but we’re still getting worked.
It slows down by 11pm, a cute girl at the bar, brunette, petite, calls me over. She says, I’ve got a weird question for you. I say, it better be really weird, if you’re going to preface it as being weird. She turns to her guy friend, says, is it weird? Guy, clean-cut, conservative in dress, says, it’s not really THAT weird. I say, whatever. What’s the question? She says, he’s my friend, we’re just hanging out. He likes this girl here tonight, but he’s too pussy to go talk to her. So, as his wingman, what should I do, besides tell him to go over and talk to her? I say, who we talking about? She says, girl with the plaid shirt, sitting at the booth over there.
I look. Yeah, she’s attractive, but seems approachable.
I say, you can do one of two things. Go up to the table yourself, start up a conversation with her, then say, oh, I have someone I want you to meet. OR you need to convince him not to be a pussy, man up, and go talk to her. I prefer the second option.
She takes a pause, says ok, turns to her guy friend, they start talking.
You know, it’s really nice that this girl cares that much about her friend, to help him get laid.
I go back to bartending, I don’t see what they decide to do.
About 20 minutes later, I look over to the booth, see the attractive girl with the plaid shirt, and her girlfriend. I look around the bar, the guy cannot be seen. I tell my fellow bartender I’m going to take five. He says, ok.
I go up to the girls at the table, say, mind if I sit down for a bit? They say, sure! The friend obligingly slides over to the wall, I plop down.
I explain to the girls what happened. Girl asked me “weird” question, guy’s a pussy, afraid to come up to you. Plaid shirt girl says, where is he? I look around, say, I don’t see him. He probably left. She says, was he cute? I say, yeah. He was ok. Clean-cut.
So, I say, what should he have done? Have his friend come up to you first, or should he have walked up to you, struck up a conversation? She says, no. He should’ve come up to me, had the confidence himself. I say, that’s what I thought.
Then I say, what do you think about the whole, let me buy you a drink? She says, no. Not at first. Talk to me for five minutes, let’s laugh about something, then you can buy me a drink.
I get up from the table, say thanks, ladies. I appreciate the conversation.
You know what I did when I met my future wife? I see her at the bar. She’s my type. She walks up to the bar alone, I go up to her, say, hey. I strike up a conversation. I make her laugh. Then I say, let me buy you a drink. I get her a gin and tonic, and I get myself one. Coincidentally, that’s my drink. Then I say, have you seen the upstairs? She says, no. I haven’t. (She lied). I say, let’s go up there. I take her up there, we talk a bit more, then I kiss her. We go back downstairs, I get her number, we set up a date, and the rest, as they say…
C’mon, guys. It’s easy. Take it from the girl with the plaid shirt. Go up to her, talk to her, share a laugh, buy her a drink, then…
Well, just don’t say I’ve got a weird question for you, unless it’s actually weird.