Gentlemen, Hold Your Liquor

Bartenders are experts on the male species. They see them at their most unbuttoned and most unzipped of states. They know what they are looking for on any given night; what will make them happy; what will get on their nerves; and what will persuade them to spend their hard-earned cash. They have gotten so adept at reading personality types that they don’t have to wait for a customer’s order to say what kind of man he is.

I was inspired to write this piece because of an interesting article I had read recently in the London Independent newspaper, which, unfortunately, made no mention of the author. It said that the Richard O’Reilly, bar manager of the Harvey Nichols’ Fifth Floor Bar said that, “If two well-dressed, middle-aged women come in, I can say to them, ‘Two Champagnes, ladies?’ and it’s almost always what they want. Or if two men come in for a business meeting, the older one will have a Gin and Tonic and the younger one, a glass of Chardonnay or a vodka and tonic. Definitely not vodka for the older one, definitely not gin for the younger.” O’Reilly is a man who knows his customers.

On a recent night out with friends, I had a chance to chat with the affable, long-time bartender (let’s call him Barman) of one of Manila’s famous nightspots and squeeze some information out of him. Our deal was that if I upheld his request for anonymity, over and above the information I wanted, he would mix us the meanest, classiest, most unadulterated martini this side of the Pacific—“just like they used to do back in the day,” he said.

So, over a glass of, admittedly, the best classic martini in the country, he dished out the juice. He said that men and women in Manila are cocktail-bar typecast victims because ours is a society that thrives on trends. We spot them, we embrace them, and we bleed them dry until the next one surfaces.

He cited several examples: “Remember that Moet et Chandon craze? People who could hardly afford it would forego dinner just to be seen with a flute in hand. What about the Grey Goose and Ketel One Vodka frenzy? Everybody but everybody needed a bottle tableside as a prop to be considered cool. I could tell who the trendsetters were, who the copycats were, and who were starving and blowing their budgets for a chance at cooldom. Oh, and remember all the rave about Bellinis?”

Barman said he could certainly tell a lot about the customer from the drinks he orders, the way he orders them, and the way he drinks them. He added that he could gauge a customer’s mood as well as what kind of person he is. If a regular were out to impress someone, it would be a Martini. “If he’s here on his own and wants to sit and mull things over, it will be something long and sippy—you know, long island iced tea and stuff like that. If he’s out for a night on the town, it’ll be bubbles. And you can almost use a stopwatch to predict the point at which a party gets going.”

Barman said that bartenders could tell when someone is ordering drinks because of the image that goes with it. Some customers are fakers. They order something they don’t really like because it makes them look a certain way. “It’s like fashion,” He explained. People who care about clothes are also into fashion where alcohol is concerned. “Cosmopolitans, Manhattans—these are what they ask for and I blame that on Sex and the City,” he was quick to add. He also said that businessmen ask for beer if they arrive in the afternoon, but come six o’clock they automatically shift to vodka tonic.

“I worked abroad for many years and in different countries and cruise ships. I noticed that foreign businessmen are partial to Gin and Tonic or G and T as they call it. But Pinoys are vodka drinkers. British customers are sophisticated and knowledgeable. They’re very much into Martinis but they hardly mention brand preference. Americans are sophisticated; they always specify a brand. Filipinos do too, but I think they’re not necessarily fans of a particular brand. They ask for it because everybody else asks for it, which is good for business whatever way you look at it.”

Barman let out a throaty laugh and went on to say that, “It’s funny how a well-dressed, middle-aged man ordered a Martini from me once and when he took his first sip his face contorted, parang mukhasim. It took all his will power not to spit it out but he pretended that it was his favorite drink. I could tell, though.”

Bartending gets to be fun when a customer doesn’t really know what he wants and asks for assistance. Barman said that he normally asks questions relating to taste to find out what the customer is partial to: sour, sweet, bitter. And then he tries to come up with a perfect fit. “Of course I’m careful,” he said. “I never serve a big, burly man some kind of frou-frou drink that’s colored pink, like a strawberry martini. Baka gulpihin ako!”

Over the years, Barman said that he has formed profiles of customers depending on what they order. “Someone who orders a Martini on the rocks is not a real Martini drinker—he probably wants vodka instead. Cosmopolitan? A follower not a trendsetter. Red wine? He has health concerns—maybe a heart or blood pressure condition. White wine? He’s a wimp. Beer all night? His monthly allowance is running out. Scotch? A serious drinker. Single malt? sophisticated and worldly. Vodka? that’s the drink of a ladies’ man. Cognac? that customer is older, a smooth operator, and with lots of money to burn. Champagne? A man who drinks Champagne is pleasing his wife, the moment she turns her back he’ll pour it onto the nearest flowerpot and order double vodka straight up. Men don’t drink champagne for the long haul. If they do, they might as well order some quiche to go with it. If someone asks for a shot of some kind—any kind, holy s***! He’s out to get ripped as fast as possible!”

“Okay, then,” I said to him, “let’s turn the tables. What’s your drink of choice?”

He chuckled and then, replied, “I’m a bartender, Ma’am, I don’t drink.”

“Yeah, Right!” But I let him off easy; it was darned good martini he gave me.

“Tell me about the worst customers.”

“That’s easy,” he said. “The drunks! They’re a pain in the a**. They make our lives difficult, not to mention messy. You can tell the real gentlemen apart because they can hold their liquor. They know how to have fun, they tip well, and they don’t cause trouble—never rowdy or out of control.

“What do you do when a customer makes a scene?”

“We have bouncers and I’m not out to judge. I have a good time behind the bar. I can put up with bad behavior, even turn it around sometimes. Drinking’s cool,” he said as a parting shot, “just make sure it goes to your stomach, not your head.”

So, gentlemen, what’s your poison?