Last Halloween, I dressed as a cow for my Friday night shift behind the bar. The whole point was a pun: look at me, the cow, asking to be tipped (here’s hoping, anyway). Retrospectively, perhaps I should have anticipated just how many men would read “tip me” as “touch me.” One man stuck half of his body across the bar just to try and grab my shoulder. He grabbed me so hard I thought he might rip my shoulder out of its socket. That move was met with me smacking his hand with a wet bar rag. Later in the night, when going to the bathroom, another man tried to grab the tail attached to my costume. I felt like the unfortunate main attraction in a petting zoo.
With Halloweekend rapidly approaching, I’ve been reminiscing on ghosts of my bartending past — and more importantly, the ways we could all stand to make the Halloweekend more enjoyable for everyone.
So, gentlemen, with the aforementioned weekend upon us, consider this your advance hangxiety treatment. Follow these rules and you’ll probably still wake up with a headache, but at least your bartender won’t threaten to 86 you.
How to Actually Get a Drink
Most bartenders I know do actually enjoy working on Halloween and getting to see creative outfits, but there are hazards to this, just like anything else. First, if you have a mask or some kind of complex latex makeup or whatever covering your mouth, figure out some clear way to order. I don’t care if that means you have to type the order out in your Notes app and pass it over to me — whatever works. Bartenders are pretty deaf after spending years in loud rooms, and we spend a lot of our time lip-reading to get your order. On a regular night, I’ll find myself confusing “Jameson and ginger” with Jäger (never promised I was good at lip reading), so who knows what you’ll get when you order while wearing a Ghost Face mask.
It’s also critical to know your order before you flag me down. This is always true, but Halloween yields many people in groups who are already a bit drunk and asking me “What’s good?” when I’m fielding three rows deep of slutty bunnies and gory zombies is only going to delay the wondrous process of getting you to your preferred level of drunkness. If you’re with the boys, one of you orders and pays for the round. Four separate tabs for four guys dressed as the Ninja Turtles (true story) is a crime against me and the rest of the bar who are now waiting on you. Pay cash or open a tab, and don’t forget to tip like it’s a holiday (because it is).
Final pro-tip: Do not put your costume props on my bar. Swords, tridents, inflatable anything — they knock over drinks and make a mess of liquid and sometimes even broken glass. I’ve seen more than one martini die by way of Halloween prop pitchfork. You don’t want to be that guy. You, my friend, are so much better than that guy.
Pace Yourself, Pumpkin
Halloween is a marathon drinking event, sort of like a cool version of SantaCon (which all bartenders do hate, BTW. Hats off to the bars that ban Santas). I have no idea where you’re coming from, where you’re going or what stop my bar is on your drunken crawl across Manhattan. But when you are in my spot, I’m responsible for you — so drink water between rounds, especially if you have a complicated costume that might be extra sweaty or laborious to cart yourself around in. The guy in a full-body mascot suit who hasn’t eaten since lunch and hasn’t had a sip of water in days is the same guy that I, at 1 a.m., end up having to stuff into a car home.
I am also greatly tickled when people order drinks that match their costume. I do, in fact, get a kick out of serving a Bloody Mary to a vampire. Keep that up, and your next round might be on me.
“Guess What I Am?” Or How to Shoot Your Shot in Costume
Listen here, my young partier, I have witnessed many flops in the Halloween flirtation department. I have been on the receiving end of it myself (the cow costume really didn’t give men much to work with — one guy saw me and just mooed really loudly). Let me give you some notes, because truly, this should be a slam-dunk, but I will concede that it requires a great deal of improvisation and riffing.
Your costume, along with other people’s (such as the beautiful women you intend to impress and court), are openers for conversations. That being said, the “guess what I am” game is the most boring way you could start up with someone. Ask them about their costumes — people love talking about themselves, and it gives you time to think of a witty joke.
Also, remember to exchange real names before you leave. The costuming of it all sometimes obfuscates the whole “I have a real name” thing, because right now (and forever, if you never get her name or share your own), you will be known as “the guy in the Shrek costume” and that will literally be your contact in her phone. You could be getting married five years from now and that will still be how her friends refer to you. You want to be “Shrek Guy” forever? No. It’s worth breaking the bit to tell her your name.
Lastly, save your flirtations with the bartender for another night. We hear a lot of catchphrases, often experience a much higher level of attention throughout the night and we are tired. We’ll banter with you, but it would behoove you to remember that we are working, not auditioning to be your Halloweekend one night stand. What we can do is help you flirt with a pretty girl.
Tip well on your first round, say please, thank you, don’t snap your fingers. Now I like you. I’ll tell you what the girl of your affections is drinking, whether she’s been swatting guys away all night or actually looking for some attention, send a drink over from you — I can even let you know if she smiled when she got the drink or rolled her eyes. If things start going south, I can mitigate the damage on both ends. But if you piss me off, you’re on your own, Casanova.
Closing Time
I know that you will spend so much money on Ubers for comings and goings, but please don’t take that out on your bartender. Halloween is an expensive night. If you want to do it right, be ready for unexpected costs, such as excess Ubering, tipping the people who serve you, possible costume malfunctions — so on and so forth.
And remember to close your tab. The number of credit cards left behind on Halloweekend is staggering. My golden rule for this? If you always say goodbye to your bartender, you’ll never forget your card.
I’ll see you this weekend in your finest, silliest garb.
More Like This
We're always on the scene eating, drinking and traveling near and far to bring you the best of what's happening out in the real world. Sign up for IRL now.
