The Cutie Behind the Bar

I’m finishing counting my money for the night shift at the restaurant, “The Perview”. It’s one of the last fancy restaurants in town, and it still is only open on weekends and closes at 9pm. I’m sitting across from Annie-the only other server on Saturday nights-when I blurt out “I can’t believe I actually agreed to this!”.

She’s sitting across from me also busy counting the money and receipts of the night, but quickly answers back, “It’s not that big of deal!”.

“That’s easy for you to say, you already have a man and he has a good job. Going out with a bartender is something that 20-somethings do when they are unaware, they are ruining their lives”.

“You’re 29, Krystal. And you’re hot!”, Annie says as she gets up from the restaurant booth clearly annoyed by the negative energy I’m giving off. What she isn’t understanding is that I’ll be 30 years old in two months and I can’t waste time anymore, with working two jobs to pay for outrageous rent and still not really knowing what I’m doing with my life, I need someone more stable than a bartender. I need a sugar daddy but I’m too ashamed to tell Annie that and I’m on the age cliff from being unqualified for that job too. Annie cuts my thoughts as I’m following her to the back office, “Look, he’s 27, he’s travelled, this is only his part time gig and he’s 6’3. Frank sits on the couch and eats. The last time we had a stimulating conversation, we were talking about whether we should get a new Volkswagen or a Subaru. And what’s worst, we decided on the goddamn Subaru because it’s safe for the kids! Trust me when you’re 42, three kids deep, going to soccer games and pretending you’re married to Ryan Gosling to go to sleep, you’re going to wish you went on that date with the 28-year-old bartender”.

I know Annie is right. I can admit that I’d seen Frank come visit and she’d have this look of resentment. The more I think of someone coveting my chance with a young bartender, the more I feel it’s only right to give Andrew a chance to sweep me off my feet. Annie and I give the closing Manager all of our leftover receipts before saying good bye to each other and I meet Andrew at the front of the restaurant. We’re closing in 30 minutes and there is still a couple sitting at the bar.

“We should’ve done this on a night where you aren’t closing”, I say as I sit in the bar chair in the corner, opposite of the couple.

“Yeah, but what’s more convenient than ending my shift and going on a date with a great looking girl straight after. It’s been my light at the end of the tunnel all night.” Andrew says smoothly and smiles, before he starts pouring drinks for the couple at the other end of the bar.

He is smooth. Annie is right. This is a good idea. I mean he is very attractive. Andrew is the definition of tall, dark and handsome. I think he was hand-crafted by the Greeks. His grandparents still live in Santorini so he visits and sometimes his whole family will meet them in Italy. Somehow between the trips and his unwavering want to be tortured, he ended up here. This restaurant isn’t the fanciest and it’s probably nowhere close to what they’re serving in Italy but he knows enough cocktails to be a crowd favorite here. I think it has something to do with his pretty-yet masculine face. It’s a beautiful, chiseled sort of face. The kind of face that will either break your heart, make your day, or leave after one night. He breaks my thoughts with a question, “So what’re you drinking?”.

“I can just wait until we go out to eat.”, I say trying to not seem eager to get drunk, even though its 9pm on a Saturday night. It’s been a while since I’ve been on a date and I don’t want to be slurring my words before the appetizer. He leans in and puts his face in his hands, “Now why would you want to do that? The date is beginning right now and I’m getting you a drink immediately. This works out for me because the whole point of the bartender is to get to know the patrons at the bar anyway. First thing you should know about me is I like to save time and energy by doing two things at once” he laughs.

“You’re right” I say after pausing from getting lost in his beautiful green eyes. “What do you think I should drink?”

“Well, are you in the mood for wine, beer or a cocktail?” He sits up as if he’s giving me a quiz. Oh god. What if he is giving me a quiz? If I order a cocktail does he make me the same cocktail he’s made his other conquests? If I order beer, does he think I’m trying to be his bro? If I order wine, does that make me seem snobby? Maybe I can be snobby…yet sophisticated.

“Wine” I settle.

“What kind of wine?”

“Well, I like something red. Maybe just a regular red blend.”

“That’s boring.” Crap. I think in my mind, I failed the quiz. “Do you like Chocolate?”

“Yes”, I say.

“Do you like Plums and/or black cherries?”, he asks another question. At this point I’m thinking we’ve gone off the topic of the wine altogether and we’re getting into some naughty stuff for later.

“I mean I don’t eat them all the time but I’m not opposed to them”, I say as my mouth starts watering a little. He sits up once again, this time really fast and grabs a bottle of wine to show it to me, with the words ‘Meet Cutie’ written on the front.

“Meet Cute is a merlot, and it’s only for a cutie. It’s a 2017 wine we just got in from California. To be honest, I just liked the name but it’s also a pretty good wine.”

“So, I’m guessing you give all the girls this particular bottle of wine, since it’s such an easy compliment.” me doubting if I should be flattered and hold this moment in my memory.

“No when I suggest a good wine, it’s a personalized experience.” He says as he pours and brings over the glass of Merlot. “I think you’re cute and I can’t wait to get to know you more. I know that you are genuinely nice, you work hard and if there’s anything I can do in your life to make it easier or make you happy, suggesting the best wine you’ll ever taste is the least of it. His straightforwardness shocks me. I didn’t really know what to say so all I could do was try the glass of Merlot. As I sip, I let out an awkward side eye and said “It’s actually very good, thank you.” He chuckles and walks away. Maybe the rest of this date won’t be so bad if I start to feel drunk from the wine. Once he turns, I take big gulps of the wine.

After the restaurant closes, we go to the only busy Saturday night bar in town, bonding over our childhoods. I notice as I’m talking to him that he grew up in a busy city and all my stories have the same five people in them. He didn’t give off an energy of a ‘big city fella’ though; everything with him seemed so casual and comfortable that I was starting to forget that I barely knew him. By the time we got the bar, I had been ready for another drink. As soon as we sat at the bar, he turns to me and says “Tequila Shots and Mozzarella Sticks?” And it was the first time I’ve been to a bar with a man who didn’t order a whiskey with a side of beer. Maybe, he is my soulmate. It was unbelievable how his attractiveness stops making me blush when he gets up after the shots and starts dancing. It’s surprising me that someone so beautiful can look so dorky and be content. For a moment there, I wish every Saturday night could be spent with him. I cut my own thoughts this time by grabbing him on the dancefloor and whispering in his ear, “So, are we going to your place or mine?”.

However, we’re at his place and the ‘Meet Cutie” wine bottle on the counter surprises me on the counter as we’re walking in. “Oh! So, who were you pouring this personalized glass of wine for?” I say as I brush pass him opening the door. He pauses for a second while taking the key out, looking for the right words, “Uhm, that was for me. I told you I liked the name.” As he’s now brushing pass me to get to the bottle, I can tell everything that just came out of his mouth was a lie. I grab the bottle quickly before he can get to it and I notice a woman’s bra casually laying on the couch, “So since you know this is now a wine dedicated to me, I guess I can take this bottle then?” I say as I slowly start moving towards the door.

“Uhm, are you sure you don’t want to stay for a movie?”

“No, I think you watch too many movies for my taste”, I laugh as I’m backing out the door and pointing to the bra.

“But I told you I like to do two things at once, that includes having two girlfriends at all times! I was going to ease you into the lifestyle!” He yells as I’m closing the door, throwing his hands up.

I can’t wait to tell Annie that I went dancing, Andrew is a toy to share and I stole his wine. Overall, I don’t have a boyfriend but I still had a pretty great night. I smile to myself as I leave his apartment building. Annie was right. When I’m older and stressed about marriage and kids, this’ll be the story I look back at and laugh.