If you've just run across this blog, check out my first post, it might explain this a bit more.
I always mention that I spent most of my young adult years in the hospitality industry and continue to have many friends and even the odd business opportunity in the "industry".
Because of this I have pretty good perspective into both worlds, the one where you work/live/party, and the other where you are just a purveyor of the services provided.
What I have found by speaking to friends who have never been in the industry, is that they have an odd perception of what its like, and more importantly how they are viewed as just customers.
It had been years since I'd actually worked at a bar or club by the time I became single, and I'll have to say I was a tad rusty as I hung out with more and more friends that I didn't have the chance to when I was all hitched and stuff. And during this "transition" period, one event transpired that illustrated how much of an outsider I had become.
The benefit of having amigo's in the bar industry is that you get an automatic "in" with all of the pleasant looking staff that generally populate most bars and restaurants. Normally picking up bartenders and waitresses is effing hard, they get hit on for a living, but if you can crack the barrier between "dude that comes in all the time" and "so-and-so's buddy" then you can actually get a good shot at hanging out with some of the delightful people that work in these places.
On one occasion I happened to be hitting it off with a pretty young lass who happened to bartend at a friends restaurant. So, arrangements were made to spend an evening watching a game, having some pints and exposing this lovely young lady to the "me and my friends" version of me while she worked. Perfect.
Well, a few pints turned into many many pints, some vodka and some Jack Daniels. I went from Zero to DANCING ON THE BAR TO MICHAEL JACKSON AS A CROWD FORMED OUT ON THE SIDEWALK in about 4 jaegerbombs.
Yup. I became THAT guy. But it gets worse.
As the night dwindled down and people filed out of the restaurant, the "party" became a few staff hanging around, me, and this nice young lady. Who was not only sober, but trying to clean up her bar to close down.
This is where many of you non-industry gentlemen need to pay close attention.
Leave. Right then. Unless you have a dated and notarized "you're coming home with me" signed affidavit, you need to bail.
Why? Well let me tell you what happens next.
Everybody leaves. And you're left there as the guy who nobody reeeally knows, pestering a girl trying to close her bar. You will forever be known as "Oh, that's the guy that was still at the bar at 3 AM last week?"
You do not want to be that guy. Because that guy happens more than you know. And nobody likes that guy. It doesn't matter how nice you are, you will transition from charming dude to a biiiit of a weirdo really, really fast.
And nothing feels or looks worse than having to get up and leave, by yourself, as the staff watch you exit alone. Drunk.
Here's the truth, it will always be better to be forgotten forever than to be remembered for a minute as "That Guy"