No joke. After this conversation yesterday, I worked late and thought I'd stop off for a drink on the way home. There's an unnamed mid-to-high range chain steakhouse that I like to frequent because they have a jazz duet or trio in the bar everynight and the waitresses generally provide nice to excellent viewing. The bartenders have generally been passable, though not excellent, but I've been willing to overlook it because of all the other positives. Given my recent change in relationship status it frequently has more than a few attractive, age appropriate female customers as well.
I walk in and the place is virtually deserted (strike #1) and I'm told by the bartender that the band has just gone on a break and won't be back for another 20 minutes (strike #2). The waitress staff on this particular night is the least talented I've ever seen in the place, so I decide to sit at the bar. I tell the (male) bartender, whom I have never seen before, that I'm in the mood for a martini:
Him: "What kind of vodka did you want in that?"
Me: "Um...gin...I'll take Hendricks. You have that, right? I'll take it 3:1, if you don't mind."
He goes and gets the bottle, puts the ice and gin and starts to shake (no vermouth in sight).
Him: "Now...what else did you want in that? You said 3:1...3:1 what?"
Me: "I'm feeling frisky tonight. Why don't we make this particular martini with vermouth."
Him: "Vermouth? OK. Dry or sweet vermouth?"
Me: "Oh, I don't know...how about dry in this one."
(Strike #3...bar fail)
I drank half of it, tipped him $2 for the excellent service and left before the band started back up.