Despite what Hollywood and TV suggest alcohol isn’t conducive to healthy dating or potential romance. A reoccurring theme in my memoirs is “boy meets girl, boy and/or girl drink too much, and things end badly.” Maybe that’s why I’ve been with my girlfriend for six years. She rarely drinks and I rarely drink around her.
***
I met Whitney in 2012 at an independent restaurant a ten minute walk from my home. At first I barely noticed her. She was nice, decent looking, and mostly professional. But she was also stubborn, opinionated, and blunt. Given I had those latter qualities in excess back then we clashed often. Usually, I can’t stand women who bust men’s balls and have no hesitation to speak their mind at every chance. But Whitney was an exception and I grew to feel something for her.
Because while she was a handful Whitney was also kind, honest, fair, and forgiving. In fact, she’d be far more forgiving than most women I’ve met.
I don’t remember much of my time working there but it was mostly pleasant. The owner and staff were friendly, the clientele was fine, and I bartended during jam nights. At the time I’m sure I hated it, working 4 p.m. to 2 a.m, with loud music and drunk customers annoying me constantly. But looking back it was one of the more colourful parts of my career.
There was Jack, a nice but cheap Irishmen who never had to pay for his beer (and thus never tipped). There was the band who were fun and down to earth. Most amusingly were four men who always sat the same part of the bartop. They were often annoying but with hindsight they were nice. Every time they arrived they ordered the same thing: “One bourbon, one scotch, one beer.” Usually, I’m not slow but it took a few weeks to remember the song, with me then saying “ah, ha, ha, ha, I just got it!”
Anyway, Whitney and I worked jam nights together and our strong personalties tended to collide. Most of it was probably my fault. Back then I was thin-skinned, angry, and didn’t like how she tried to pry me out of my quiet, defensive shell. With hindsight I envied Whitney… how she was natural with people, loved life, and still had the gall to call out people. Because while I was weary of humans back them I’d learned to be cautious before confronting customers. But to be fair cute waitresses tend to be valued and get away with murder, while male bartenders are usually a dime of dozen.
I remember an incident that highlighted our “respective” views on humankind. A reporter came in to write a piece on jam night. The owner was smart enough to suggest Whitney take the lead and be interviewed. This was correct as back then I distrusted journalists. Some of this was due to the reporter who tarnished my parents for firing an abusive nanny who hit my brother.
Unsurprisingly, I told Whitney to be cautious, concise, and not give the reporter any dirt she could use against us. This is generally correct for politics and corporations but with hindsight it looked ridiculous given the journalist was there to highlight a fun pub. So of course Whitney wisely ignored my advise, charmed the woman, and got us into the paper. I can’t imagine the PR disaster had I been interviewed instead.
But Whitney could also be pushy, judgemental, and annoying, even when I just wanted to be left alone. She once called me a “fucking introvert,” mocked my obsession with writing history, and would preen my clothes the way a mother does. Because while she was authentic, Whitney also cared more about appearances and status than myself.
Ultimately though, none of that matters because we all have flaws, Whitney was a nice person, and unlike many former colleagues and girls in the industry, I don’t regret meeting her.
***
I knew I’d developed feelings for Whitney, reluctantly, after she invited me to a party at a colleague’s home. Being somewhat clueless about women back then I thought she liked me. WRONG! She was just being nice and wanted me to socialize more, which was annoying. I was a bartender after all: We are paid to socialize with customers, not charm co-workers.
The party was fine but I remember one of our idiot regulars embarrassed me in front of Whitney. We were friends and close enough to chastise him on the way home. In retaliation he got angry and poured a whole beer onto the floor of my car. Back then I could’ve killed him… today I can’t stop laughing. Given he sold drugs and was a coke head perhaps he wasn’t the best person to hang out with.
I can’t remember if I talked to Whitney at the party because I was probably drunk and the host liked me. She was my supervisor but was attractive and always super nice to me. Thus, I was content chatting with her since I was quiet back then. Besides, she was slim, bubbly, and had a lower back tattoo. But when you have feelings for someone you often don’t strike at any girl, so I didn’t make a move on my supervisor (which may have also been the professional thing to do).
Either way, it didn’t matter. I stopped pursuing Whitney when it became obvious she was seeing the other bartender. He was an okay guy but was a stereotypical, cocky bartender who read all the books by pickup artists to know EXACTLY what to say with women. There’s nothing wrong with self-improvement and learning about women, but I despise men who become so formulaic and fake just to get laid. Then again, such bartenders had more success with girls than myself. I can live with myself, but my career was also less fun and pleasurable.
When I found out they were together during one of the staff’s drinking session I became quiet and disillusioned. Of course Whitney had fallen for the cocky, loud mouthed guy versus me. I thought how predictable and that she “was just like everyone else.” The idea I could’ve been more friendly, suave, and in better shape escaped me. It’s always better to try improving yourself than complaining but the latter is usually easier and requires no effort.
Soon afterwards the bar got a new GM to overhaul the place, fired me for being a “malcontent” and I forget about Whitney… for awhile.
***
We texted occasionally for six months before I came back in for some drinks. One of us suggested we should hang out and catch up. By then she wasn’t with the other bartender but I didn’t assume she was interested in anything more than friendship. Either way, we’d hang out five times over the next month.
I’m not sure you would call them dates, but as I paid for everything and she gave mixed signals I think she gave me a fair shot. Whatever Whitney was, she didn’t use men or play games. As she liked assholes and difficult men at the time and since I wasn’t the most pleasant guy back then that didn’t disqualify me. More importantly, I’d just gotten into the best shape of my life and that arguably made me more appealing.
Our hangouts/dates, or whatever you’d call them were similar to our working relationship: Blunt, tense, hot and cold, but agreeable. We went for drinks often and usually ended up at each others’ place.
We alternated between joking, mocking each other, and arguing, but somehow kept hanging out. Maybe she just liked free drinks, perhaps I liked her despite her firebrand personality, or maybe we were testing each other to see if anything was there. After all, some couples show their emotions through conflict… not that I’ve ever preferred that!
I’m sure she realized my interest early on. Women are better with gauging emotions and I wasn’t subtle back then. As for her I wasn’t sure but I recall some signs: Grabbing my leg a few times as I drove her home, full smiles when I made suggestive comments, the nights ending at our places, etc. But I was young, dumb, angry at the world, and unable to exploit potential feelings she may have had.
***
Plus I was perpetually drunk back then, which provided a last, fatal ingredient to the mix.
In fact, all these years later I only clearly recall the details of one of our dates. It was at an independent Vodka house with decent food, meh service, but cute girls. It was likely the last of our hangouts at the time and I got there early. Some of this was to scope out the place and ease my nerves, and because a colleague wanted to grab an early drink that day. Either way, I succumbed to temptation and may have had a few TOO many drinks before Whitney arrived.
I’ll always remember her reaction after she sat down and took in the situation:“You’re drunk already,” she said. I can’t remember if the tone was of surprise or disappointment but with hindsight it wasn’t the best omen for the beginning of a date!
Despite that we had a good time… from what I remember. We laughed alot, stayed at least three hours, and she caught up with my alcoholic consumption. My colleague and the… promiscuous waitress who obviously liked him, kept eyeing us and made adorable gestures in our direction. I fucking hate that, no matter how well a date is going other people shouldn’t interfere with the vibe.
Eventually, we ended up at Whitney’s place. I can’t remember how but I hope neither of us drove. I know we watched a movie and the mood was friendly but she didn’t get touchy and given my state I wasn’t either.
After the movie things got awkward. Back then I was too dumb to realize I’d failed the test of potential romance. Did I mention the first thing she said during the evening was “you’re drunk already.” Given that I’m surprised I made it that far.
Thus Whitney, who had given me fair chance to court her for a month levelled with me. To her credit, she was more considerate and gentle than most women. I can’t remember the exact wording, due to the constraints of time, alcohol, and pain of rejection.But I recall her saying “we weren’t compatible.” I remember being quiet, standing up, her hugging me, and walking out before getting emotional. Because when you really like someone rejection is a bitch.
***
Time heals most wounds and now I laugh at it all. Whitney would marry the other bartender, who turned out to be a good man, had children, and as far as I know leads a happy life. And I’m happy for her because she was a great colleague, kind person, and she was right. We weren’t compatible, I drank too much, and was too messed up for a relationship at the time. It’s funny how you can look back and remember strong feelings you had for someone, only to realize in hindsight how silly it was.
Sometimes you feel like an idiot for liking someone who was obviously bad for you. Someone who was toxic, manipulative, and frankly not a good person. But Whitney, whatever her… trying qualities, was a good person and had given me a fair shot. I haven’t talked to her in over a decade but I always wish her the best.