Some rules of etiquette for patrons:

Don’t shake your ice at me. I’m not your dog. Just push the glass forward a bit and I’ll get there ASAP.

Don’t pound your empty glass on the bar. You might eat it.

Don’t call me Chief, or Sport, or some other stupid name that you feel makes you look like a big shot in front of your bimbo or your 30-something ‘still want to be in a frat’ friends.

Don’t tell me to ‘put some booze in the next one’. I put booze in the first one, it’s my job and unless you’re an asshole, I already pour a bit heavy.

Don’t try to get me to hook you up with the girls at the end of the bar. If you want to send them a drink, fine, I’ll take it—the message however is up to you. I don’t do singing telegrams.

Don’t complain because we only have two types of wine: red or white. I love wine, that’s why I’d never order the house shit in a typical bar; when I want wine, I go where the wine is.

Don’t complain because we don’t serve food at midnight. Wendy’s is down the street and they’re open late. Besides you shouldn’t have skipped dinner to do three more Irish Car Bombs.

Do Tip Well. Thanks for your time.