The One Rule You Don’t Break at the Bar
I believe there are rules of etiquette that are ingrained, or embedded, by some long-forgotten moments in time that we follow throughout our lives.
As a man, I thought this one rule was universally known.
Apparently, I was wrong.
Monday night is trivia night at a bar in Annandale, New Jersey. Our team consists of four or five guys (depending on who is available), but on this night we had five.
The game is simple: each team is given a tablet. There are three games, and for each question, there are four possible answers. Via the tablet, the team selects their answer.
Rinse, lather, repeat.
Simple.
One of the problems, however, with this system is that the tablet often locks up or simply dies. Since I sit on the edge of the booth (closest to the host) when this happens, I am given the tablet to get it reset.
Ninety-nine percent of the time, I am happy to make the trek across the bar to the host.
Tonight, however, was that one percent of the time I was not.
When I stepped out of the booth for a moment, I overheard a woman at the bar state that she was from Old Bridge (my hometown) to a man a few feet away.
On trivia night, I barely talk to women, let alone to someone I didn’t know.
However, there was a reason to talk to this woman, so I had to ask, "Did you say you’re from Old Bridge?"
The woman turns, smiles, and says, "Yes, yes I am."
I look into the face of a very pretty and very young (best guess, early twenties) woman.
Let me set the record straight: I am not delusional, I’m a good forty years older than this young woman.
I was not trying to get her number or buy her a drink. She mentioned my hometown, and I turned around.
That was the only reason.
For the next few minutes, we have a nice conversation. She tells me where her family lived before they moved to Old Bridge.
I told her my house was just off Throckmorton Lane, and she knew exactly where I lived; she had a friend from that same section of town.
Back and forth we went, just having a nice time with a stranger in a bar when I heard this behind me.
"Al?"
"Al?"
"Al?"
I turn slightly and see Thom, on of my friends on the team, hold the tablet out toward me.
Apparently, the tablet died, and he wanted me to take it to the host to reset.
I turn back to the woman at the bar (never got her name) and smile.
“Excuse me.”
Then turn back to Thom, I look him directly in the eye and whisper-shout:
"Are you fucking kidding me right now?"
Then quickly turn back to the woman to continue our conversation.
Now you might think, if we go back to the beginning of this post, what rule has been broken?
Do not interrupt a man when he is talking to a woman in a bar.
Even if he is not trying to pick her up.
Even if he is not trying to get her number
Even if he is not trying to take her home for the night.
Simply, you do not interrupt a conversation between a man and a woman in a bar.
Ever.
I know it sounds like a rule you learned in high school, but I have news for you…
...all of life’s rules are rules you learned in high school.
In Thom’s defense (and I hate to give him one) he did say this afterwards:
“You know, Al,” Thom said, “I have never seen you talked to a woman that long that wasn’t your ex-wife - ever.”
Touché, Thom.
Touché.
