Saturday, 9:45pm
Tavern on Jane
31 Eighth Ave. (Jane St.), Manhattan
Last weekend, Sara was out with Annie, drinking ginger ale at the bar at Tavern on Jane. Bar ginger ale is delicious, especially when you're still sort of recovering from your Wednesday (yes that was three days earlier; we're AA, accept it).
Tavern on Jane is both restaurant and bar. It is not an inn (as "tavern" might suggest to anyone who reads). Anyway, it's Age Appropriate in there at tables and bar, not including one patron who deemed himself Mixologist, and who was instructing his 34-year-old friend on "bar etiquette." As in: "Excuse me, ladies, but my friend is teaching me bar etiquette and he says I should come over here and offer to pay your entire tab, drinks and meal. Would you like me to pay your entire tab?"
Uh, your friend said what?
"My friend is teaching me about bars. You see, I've only had five glasses of wine in my life so he's teaching me how to go out. Would you like me to pay your entire tab?"
We'd just been served a chicken quesadilla, following a salad, which made his timing as awkward as his proposition.
Annie (to Sara, fork in hand): He keeps saying entire.
Sara (to Propositioner): And what do we have to do?
Propositioner: Nothing. My friend tells me this is bar etiquette. I simply want to pay your entire tab.
Annie: I don't think so.
Sara: Hang on. We just got our food. Can we think about it and get back to you?
Propositioner: Of course.
All eyes are on us as he walks back to his stool. We try not to laugh.
Annie: What was that about?
Sara: I think we should do it.
Annie: I don't want to have to talk to him.
Sara: I don't think we're going to have to.
Annie: Why did he keep saying entire?
Sara: Who could possibly think this is bar etiquette?
We keep our heads down and laugh, then hear a voice ask, with dismay, "You offered to pay for their food too?" We're hysterical, as is everyone at the bar, but we're all keeping it to ourselves, for now.
The bartender approaches us: Two gentlemen want to pay your tab, but said I should ask you first.
Sara: We're trying to make sense of that.
Bartender: Do you want me to flip a coin?
Annie: We don't want to have to talk to them.
Bartender: They're paying their tab too. They're leaving.
Sara: Done. Tell them thank you and yes.
On their way out, the Propositioner admits to being 34 (AA!). His mentor is maybe 25, won't admit his age, spits on Annie while speaking, and does not know "73rd and Lex" (where he allegedly bartends two days a week) is the Upper East Side.
We spend the next hour in hysterics with our half of the bar and the bartender (all AA locals), analyzing. It's a wonderful world, and dinner was good too.
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