The tension between the two groups had been developing for some time; it was the very definition of friction. The two businessmen had been there since lunch, and it was obvious that they weren't going to make it to dinner. Ties gone, shirts unbuttoned, they sat leaning heavily over the bar.

My predecessor had provided coffee, and a cab had been called. Unfortunately in the interim they were getting louder and more obnoxious. It was unfortunate for me, but even more unfortunate for the groups of people on either side of them.

One group was a couple involved in some sort of business meeting. I've always wondered about the success rate of business conducted over cocktails. Someone should do a study - it might explain a few things. The woman sat in her charcoal business suit occasionally glancing over her shoulder disgustedly at the noisy duo. She was about the same age as the two men and didn't seem like the confrontational type. She also appeared to believe that she was among polite-enough company that a dirty look would resolve the situation.

Clearly she didn't go to bars very often.

It was also becoming increasingly obvious that whatever she was working on was going to be impacted by the noisy duo beside them.

The two tie-less men upped the ante. The swear words were now coming in twos and threes, with some hyphenated variations that even I had never heard of. I've noticed that the less physically intimidating a man is, and the less macho his employment, the

Advertisement
more likely that he will use foul language in a bar. As if somehow the words themselves make the speakers tough.

"So I told that mother****** that if I didn't get the ****ing files I was going to kick his ***** ass," said the lighter haired of the two.

Tough words, indeed. I figured that the actual ass kicking would probably involve an anonymous complaint to the boss.

But here at the bar, fueled by a bottle of wine, these two were talking tough. After several accidental elbow bumps, Lady Charcoal turned to the two tough-talkers. I didn't hear what she said but I moved over and mouthed the words "Are you OK?" She nodded, and I went to call the cab company again to make sure a cab was on the way.

When I returned, the woman's companion had left, leaving her to finish her wine. I expected her to finish quickly and leave, but at about the same time the loud talkers' cab finally arrived. Much to my chagrin only one of the two talkers left, the lighter-haired one staying behind. You can lead a horse to water but you can't make it drink.

I went to get the manager because this had "authority figure" written all over it. When I returned, Lady Charcoal and Loud Talker were leaning close, their foreheads practically touching. He handed her something. Then, giggling like a schoolgirl, she held up a cocktail napkin made into a rose.

What was taking the manager so long?

Loud Talker waived me over. In the same interest that makes us rubberneck at a car crash, I went.

"I'd like to buy the lady another glass of wine."

I looked quizzically at Lady Charcoal, and surprisingly she nodded.

"Oh," added Loud Talker, "and one for me."

I explained that I would let him buy the lady a drink, but I couldn't serve him any more alcohol. An argument ensued that was just getting heated when the manager finally arrived. The argument went up another level and soon the manager was walking Loud Talker out the door. He was being given a decision to either get into a yellow car or be put into a black-and-white one.

Lady Charcoal, seemingly embarrassed by the whole incident, paid her bill and scurried out the door. It was later that the valet informed me that the mismatched couple had left together in the same cab.

I might not be much of a fortune teller, but after this experience I predict three things will happen:

- A loud talking pencil pusher will have one hell of a headache.

- A stormy six-month relationship will ensue but end abruptly.

- And, in about seven months, a lady in a charcoal suit will tell a friend that her ex-boyfriend "seemed so nice at first" in spite of the fact that he was cut off, asked to leave and nearly arrested the very first time that they met.

Suddenly Singles Awareness Day, which is celebrated on the same day as Valentine's Day, doesn't look so bad.

Jeff Burkhart is an award-winning bartender at a Marin bar/restaurant and an author. His columns appear weekly in Here. Contact him at jeffb@thebarflyonline.com.