The One Where I Say Pants More Than Usual

Joelle said before her coffee on January 11, 2008

Last night, GFI, Modigli and I went for drinks our fave neighborhood cocktail bar — I won’t name it lest some employee does a Google search and I end up with spit in my martini.

To say I love this place is putting it mildly. It’s just my speed… inside it’s very “70’s cocktail bar meets modern lounge” complete with natural and wood wall coverings, amber glass here and there and some really cool giant 70’s-looking light fixtures.  Their food is delicious. I’d only ever tried their garlic aoli pomme frites (fancy name for French fries), but last night we had the cheese platter with Stillson, brie, fresh honeycomb and some funky little raisins. Good stuff.

Anyway, the bartender has this pair of pants that he wears every time we go.  I can’t tell if it’s a uniform, if it’s just coincidence or if he really, really loves those pants.  No one else seems to be wearing a uniform, other than maybe the hostess, who is usually in all black.  He’s got a hipster thing going for him...he’s got a definite style. And while I’m not really all that partial to men in skinny pants, these are pretty cool pants.  Black and white hounds tooth, I think?  Or perhaps they were just checked — the print was small and it was dim lighting.  I just find it funny that he’s sporting them every time we go in there and if it were a uniform, wouldn’t someone else have the same pants on?  I have another hipster-y friend who also wears a specific pair of pants very frequently.  I’m beginning to think hipsters only have one pair of pants.

But, Repeat Pants or not, I like our bartender. He is sometimes a bit slow and GFI isn’t wild about his martinis, but I have faith!  Out of the roughly 8 martinis I’ve had from him since we’ve been going there, about five have been alright, two have been awesome and one was like drinking Sea Monkeys.  He got a little crazy with the “dirty” part of a dirty martini.

I think GFI is throwing in the towel and switching to Cosmos, but like I said, I have faith.  He seems like a nice guy and he’s starting to remember us, so someday, I fully anticipate he’ll know exactly what and how I’ll order when I come in the door.  It would also be nice to be greeted with “NORM!” but I won’t push it.

Moral of the story: Make friends with your bartender. Even if he’s only got one pair of pants.