To the bitch who spilled half a glass of red wine on me on Sat night:
What the hell is wrong with you?
Don’t get me wrong: I don’t have an issue with accidentally spilling drinks (hey, shit happens when you party drunk) – but at least have the etiquette to apologise afterwards.
You don’t have to say, “Oh my god, I can’t believe I spilled wine on the hottest hunk of mancake (or should that be Dancake?) in this bar. You are a god and I will self flagellate myself for weeks” – although I don’t think that would be going too far. However, I would settle for you at least having the decency to look me in the eye and say, “Oh. Oops. Sorry.”
But no. Not even that. Instead, you nasty cow who drinks cheap sub-standard house red (I could smell it as it soaked into my shirt’s very fibres), you simply looked at me as if it were my fault for getting between your cheap excuse for liquor and the floor before soullessly turning away. To you I unleash the full voodoo curse of Bar Zine: may you never drink anything other than house red again.
Let’s move on.
Here are five other bar etiquette tips that come to mind:
- If someone is in a toilet cubicle and you can see the door is engaged, do not start hammering on the door while screaming like a banshee. This happens to me (especially when I venture east) and let me tell you, it does not hurry things along. At all.
- Wait your frickin turn when ordering drinks at the bar. There have been times when people have behaved impeccably well and insisted I be served first – and I have always wanted to dry hump them in gratitude because it’s such a rare occurrence. There are other times when people barge up to the bar and, impatient to get their cheap house red or bourbon and Cokes, decide that all’s fair in love and liquor. It ain’t. May the Bar Zine voodoo curse rain down on you lot too.
- If you step on someone’s feet on the dance floor then … that’s right … say “sorry!” Of course, this rule does not apply to me. I can step on as many damn toes as I please.
- Be nice to your bartenders. The poor bastards have to put up with your kind all night, every night. Tip when you order cocktails, smile when they’re friendly, and if you find them attractive then try not to leer too much.
- If you projectile vomit on the dance floor … actually, just run. At that stage of the game, even I have to admit that etiquette doesn’t apply anymore.
If I missed any points – and I’m sure I have, since I based these on my Saturday night alone – then leave a comment below: