I said yes please, and got my favourite beer.
Then he said the same thing to the next customer, and he got his favourite beer, which was different to mine.
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You know you’ve made it when you walk in and they start making your drink.
When I was a big drinker and sat at my pub a lot, by the time I’d walk in and sit down I’d have a drink waiting in my spot, it felt kind of nice knowing someone thought about me.
Nice, isn’t it? When I was a big drinker, I’d hit my hole-in-the-wall and get a double whiskey and a coke back, no questions asked.
Best part? On on busy Friday or Saturday when there was a monster line at the bar, I could grab a spot, STFU, get my drink.
“HEY! How come that guy got served?!”
“Because he’s not being an ass.”
And, back to the back of the line for the questioner.
Two old ladies running the place. Never knew their names. But god help you if there was a fight starting. Flirting with a girl one night and some guys got to pushing around…
“ALL RIGHT! GET THE FUCK OUT! BAR’S CLOSED!”
She looked at me kinda nervous:
“Really?”
“Yeah, really. They mean it. We gotta go.”
(We didn’t go anywhere, but we split in any case.)
Can you please continue to take notes and see how many different favorites the barman can store in his head?
Well that sounds downright pleasant.
I would very much enjoy to be asked such a question, provide such an answer, and receive such a beverage.
A bar is the only place I wouldn’t mind them know my usual. It was a problem when the McDonald’s person knew my order. I had a busy job and they were right next door…the convince was handy. But i stopped going once I realized they knew me that well.
I used to go to a coffee shop near where I worked fairly regularly. I deliberately tried to mix up what I ordered every time because I enjoy trying new things. One day, one of the baristas acknowledged me as a “regular” and made a note of what I had ordered, and from that day forward, that is what they started making me when they saw me walk in. If she wasn’t working, I would still mix it up, but I never had the heart to tell her that the random drink I ordered one arbitrary day wasn’t really my favorite. I think at some point I appreciated being remembered more than I cared about the coffee.
I love being a regular at a shop
Life goals. I don’t drink, but if I could become consistent enough I think I could achieve this at the local coffee shop (apple fritter + earl grey).
…but I love variety so much. How do you do it?
If I fancy something different, I wear a disguise so he doesn’t recognise me.
I have a usual order at a coffee place on my way to work. This morning I walked in and it was already ready. not because I was expected but because the owner was just making one for herself.
