Manhattan

☾︎✯☽︎

“Good evening, ladies. I am Seokjin and I will be in charge of serving you drinks with some laughs on the side,” Jin said, giving our patrons for the evening one of his signature charming winks. The three ladies were already melting and swooning at the gesture.

“How do you plan on doing that? What’s your secret?” one of them asked, raising an eyebrow as her eyes sparked with anticipation.

Jin broke into a smile and leaned forward. “So glad you could ask, madam. My secret is… drum roll please…” he tapped his fingers on the bar. “… a generous splash of puns and dad jokes. All are free of charge. After all, as a bartender, it's my duty to serve you both drinks and smiles. So, why did the lemon refuse to jump into the bartender's glass? It was feeling a little sour!"

The group chuckled; their interest was piqued. I arched an eyebrow and shook my head.

Kim Seokjin was many things. A gossip, sassy and worldwide handsome (his words, not mine), but funny wasn’t one of those things. His sense of humour mainly consisted of puns and cringy dad jokes and the only reason why anyone, women specifically found them funny was because of the very thing he took so much pride in – his face.

“That joke was cringy and you know it,” I commented, wiping the glass in my hand.

He let out a gasp and clutched his chest. “That joke was the best one I could dish out. As long as it put these a smile on these pretty ladies’ faces,” he took one of their hands and kisses them. The girl was already a melting mess because of the gesture.

“Maybe focus more on mixing drinks and less on being a stand-up comedian,” I said.

Jin’s eyes measured me with judgement. “Good Lord, hyung. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that your sense of humour is on the rocks.”

The patrons erupted into laughter. I tried to hide a smile but couldn’t stop the chuckle from leaving my mouth. I’ll admit that was a witty comeback. Well played.

I saw a group of women, about three of them, approach the bar in my direction. “Good evening, ladies. How can I help you?” I greeted them with a smile.

“Hi, can you make me a vodka soda? Oh! And a strawberry sunrise and a margarita for my friends,” one of them, a woman with long bleach blonde hair said.

“Alrighty! Just give me a few minutes and I’ll have your drinks ready,” I said.

I quickly grabbed three glasses and the ingredients I needed to make their drinks. About five minutes later, their drinks were placed right in front of them. “Here you go. Would you like to open a tab or are you paying as you go?” I asked.

“No need. I’m sure if I ask any of the guys here, they’ll be happy to pay for us,” the blonde said.

My eyebrow flew up to my hairline, taken back by what she said. I noticed her friends already getting uncomfortable and embarrassed by her and I swore I heard one of them mutter, “Not this again.”

“Um… what?” I asked dumbfounded, slowly coming to my senses.

“Don’t mind her,” one of her friends dismisses her with a glare. “You can open us a tab.”

“No, I said that I have it handled because I’m sure someone is going to step in and offer to help out this lovely lady and her friends and pay for our drinks.” She said raising her voice loud enough to catch the attention of almost every person in the bar. “Unless you’re offering,” she turned to me with a flirtatious grin tugging her glossy lips.

“First of all, no. I am not going to pay for your drinks,” I said. “Second, you can’t just come to a bar and expect random strangers to pay for your drinks if they’re not offering.”

“Men are always out here preaching about being nice guys and complaining about why women never choose them,” she shrugged. “Now’s their chance to practice what they preach and prove how much of a “nice guy” they really are.”

I blinked once. Twice. Thrice. “Ma’am, do you have any money at all?”

“Wow! That’s rude to ask,” she retorted immediately getting into the defensive.

“It’s just a genuine question,” I rolled my eyes.

“We do actually. Don’t worry,” one of them interjected earning a glare from the blonde.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“Saving us from being humiliated by your antics and avoiding getting kicked out,” her friend responded matter-of-factly.

“I told you I have things under control, and you don’t need to waste money.”

So, she’s one of those people. It wasn’t the first time I’ve encountered customers, women in particular, who come to any bar or club with little to no money and played damsel in distress to get free drinks. These types of customers are the most annoyingly spoiled and entitled egomaniacs I’ve ever encountered in my years as a bartender.

“Okay, I’m going to have to take these back,” I said, withdrawing the drinks I made for them.

“Hey! You can’t do that!” the blonde shrieked.

“I very much can, and I am not obligated to serve customers who would rather solicit other customers just because they’re too broke to afford their own drinks,” I told her. “And I’m sure you can see a lovely sign with the words “No Solicitation” written in bold and all caps posted behind me. So unless you’re going to take your friend’s offer to sponsor you and save yourself the embarrassment, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“I’ve been here plenty of times and none of the bartenders here had a problem with it!”

“That’s them. My colleague Jin would have loved to sponsor you since he prides himself in being a gentleman, but as you can already see, he’s occupied,” I said, pointing at Jin and his patrons. “I, on the other hand, can see right through your BS and that little trick of yours is not going to work on me I’m afraid. I’m not going to let you bully my customers to buy you drinks.”

“Do you know who I am? I am an influencer with a huge following. Do you really want me to ruin your business?”

“Yes, and I am Ariana Grande’s new boyfriend,” I deadpanned. “I am truly sorry that you’ve been raised by a society that thinks you as a woman should be celebrated for just existing and adhering to the male gaze and social aura. But sadly, I am not part of that society. Being pretty and an influencer can get you far, but it means nothing.”

The blonde’s face was already red from rage and humiliation. I can assume that my words were an unspoken truth that struck one of her insecurities she didn’t want to face and confront. Could I have been kinder with my words, sure, but I was being honest and there was no way that I was going to sugarcoat my words just to accommodate her feeling. Life doesn’t work like that.

“Whatever! But we’re never coming back here,” she spat, shooting daggers at me.

“Trust me, sweetheart. You not coming back here to spend money you don’t seem to have is the least of my worries,” I answered.

“Let’s just go,” the blonde’s other friend quickly grabbed her before she could do anything to me and escorted her out.

The friend that stayed behind – the same one who offered to pay to diffuse the situation – slid some cash towards me. “I apologise for the inconvenience. I hope this makes up for it,” she bowed.

I slid the money back towards her. “It’s fine. Your apologising is more than enough. Enjoy your night – well, what’s left of it.”

She smiled and bowed again before leaving. I let out a long sigh. I deserve a raise after this.