Working with Hot Bartender just seems to get stranger and stranger …
First of all, we both seem to have picked up a couple of admirers. And our competitive streaks have really come full force, interacting with each other in weirdly invigorating ways.
We had a steak selling competition and I held the lead strongly from morning to afternoon and we razzed each other about it all day. He caught up with me when he got put in a better section for the evening shift and I attempted to get a handicap for my disadvantage. He assured me he wasn’t afraid to play dirty to win and (after that shameless attempt to play dirty myself) I innocently explained that I would NEVER cheat. He threw me the look. Happy frissons abound when I see that hopelessly cute amusingly exasperated expression. In the end, he beat me, but as I was leaving (my section while worse for guests, the first to be cut) I conceded defeat and said I wouldn’t hold it against him. He might have sold more T-bones, but I was getting to go home 🙂 He appeared to take winning the battle but losing the war gracefully.
So, onto the admirers. Heather is a 19 year old server, blonde, cute, nice, and I don’t really know her. They flirt and play around. As for myself, Matt, another bartender who always felt the need to inform me of how attractive he found other servers broke out telling me I was looking sexy on Sunday. He even included an expletive that added his usual amount of charm. I don’t like Matt, but I don’t mind flirting with him. “Well, I try,” I responded and then followed that up with, “But then again, I don’t have to.” We both laughed for a minute.
It’s the little things in the restaurant world.
A creepy old man, when asked if I could get him anything else requested a personal massage to which I responded that unfortunately I could only get him something I could ring up on our computer. So he was out of luck.
Hot Bartender was serving and managed to charm (not really surprisingly) a table of mid-twenties—early thirties women who had really given me the icy treatment. I of course, let him know about their strikingly different attitude. He gave a cocky grin and made sure to head over to that table one more time to flirt, catching my eye first. I think he was trying to make me jealous, which I also find cute considering I wasn’t. I just rolled my eyes, not pandering (okay maybe pandering a little) to his game.
Coming back, he returned to me to comment how strange it was that they had such a different attitude with him. I told him that I had my creepy old personal massage guy, so he could take the gigglers. He agreed, we both won that night.
I know a lot of people might not be quite so amused with Hot Bartender’s compulsive flirting. However, this is one of the reasons I think we would work well together. I’ve never really been a jealous type of person and flirting has never bothered me. I think it’s natural and I wouldn’t dole out a hardcore shutdown of all he’s ever known if we dated. As long as it stayed at flirting I think I would be fine with it.
This is not to say that I’m criticizing people who prohibit partners flirting, but that for me, it isn’t a problem. To each their own I think!
And I’m pretty sure that my blasé attitude towards flirting is probably due to my father. My father is a lot like a modern day Henry VIII.
He’s on marriage number four. Had two daughters and couldn’t have a son—although he’s got one now through marriage. And is a compulsive cheater.
He has a routine, a very predictable routine, for his affairs. He’s done it since I can remember. It’s all very precise and regimented. Once he’s geared up for an affair and has a woman in mind, he’ll join a male softball league. He’ll go to all the practices (really go), but on the practice before their first game, he becomes “injured.” Unable to play for the season, he still goes to support his team (note he’s not going to wear the uniform because he won’t be playing), but no, he doesn’t need anyone to go with him because there’s no point, he’s not going to be out on the field. And the affair typically lasts the season. Every Tuesday and Thursday.
I know people say they marry their fathers, but I am saying that is NOT going to be me. I simply think that I can tolerate flirting and am experienced enough to know the trouble signs, to know if it is really harmless or not, and to not feel threatened or jealous by something that isn’t a real threat.
So Hot Bartender’s flirting is amusing and I’ve been doing a little of my own lately. I also now feel the need to point out that Hot Bartender is NOTHING like my father. He actually likes to talk, acknowledges my existence, and is witty. I enjoy being with him. Totally opposite ends of the spectrum in terms of personality.
In other news, I have been completely unable to find a dress for the wedding yet. I was in a few stores feeling like a slightly altered version of Julia Roberts from Pretty Woman. I have all this money to spend and can’t find a dress to spend it on! So I’m headed to Nordstrom’s on Saturday for an appointment with a personal shopper. I’ve never tried this before, but I’m willing to give it a shot. So I’ll let you guys know how it goes next week! I’m hoping I’ll get the Bridget experience where she finds the gorgeous black cocktail dress! Of course, later on I wouldn’t mind the pizza treatment and complete wardrobe overhaul … but one step at a time, folks! 🙂