I Can't Help It, I Will Always Love Soda Bar

So, a friend and I decided to meet up at my local neighborhood bar to toss back a few before heading home for the night.

This particular bar is wildly popular, mainly because it's one of very few in my neighborhood. It's got food, it's cheap, and it's got a cool vibe, which includes a giant backyard for boozing al fresco, and a large back room with a lounge that's pretty comfy.

The problem with the back room is that, the service is awful awful awful. It is pretty much a given that if you aren't sitting at the actual bar, you're going to be shit out of luck as far as getting your food before it gets cold, or getting the proper drink order, or getting a drink order at all...I'd much rather sit at the bar for other reasons as well, such as, a bartender that we have dubbed "Hunky" who is sooo pretty, and fun to ogle while nursing one's cocktail.

I had gotten to the bar first and secured the only stool left. I hoped that another would open up before my friend showed up, but alas, none did. So we ordered our drinks up front, and then made our way to the back room, hoping for the best.

We settled into the cozy sofa that we found and threw back our drinks-his Blue Point Ale tame compared to my dirty 3-olive martini. After catching up on life and shooting the shit for a while, we realized that we were empty, and were in definite need of a refill.

I will say, the waitress seemed attentive at first, almost suspiciously so. Although it took her a while to bring us our second round, she did bring me the shaker with extra martini in it and left it at the table. Score!

However, true to form, we sort of never saw her again. I recall my friend needing another beer (since I had so much martini I was pretty much set for the night) so we waited, and waited. I needed to pee, so I figured I'd go grab him another ale from Hunky and bring it back myself (standard behavior when one is sitting in the back lounge of this place).

On my way to the bathroom I saw our server and she was aware that she had been slacking, so she immediately offered to get me the beer...and then sweetly asked me to bring it back to the table myself. "I...but...eh..." "Thanks darling. You're a sweetheart" she smiled. I saw her put a Guinness on the bar.

"Here you go. It'll be waiting for you when you get back."

I was a lil loopy at this point, and didn't really register that my friend was drinking a lighter beer, and even moreso, wasn't the slightly bit miffed that my WAITRESS was asking me to carry my own drinks. Um, hello? So on my way back from the bathroom I brought the beer back and was greeted with a loud guffaw that it was so the wrong drink.

I know that!

Whatever, a beer is a beer. So he drank it...and of course, we never saw hide nor hair of this woman again.

We'd had our share of beverages, and it was late and time to get the hell out of Dodge. But we needed our bill.
We jokingly discussed ducking out of the side door that we happened to be sitting next to, conveniently located for those who I imagine become instant criminals by running out on their tab from sheer frustration. I so desperately wanted to be one of those people, but instead, I figured I'd just head over to the bar and get the tab from the bartender. No biggie.

I get to the bar, and the waitress is hanging out at the bar, head thrown back, doing shots.

Well I guess I know why she went missing!

I threw my card down and in my haste and drunken stupor, did not realize until this morning that she overcharged me by 8 bucks or so.

Which very well might be karma biting me in the ass, because I completely forgot to leave her a tip. D'oh.