How a Privileged Bartender Ruined Our Night
An evening out quickly turned sour, reminding me why I’m a feminist
There were hints and clues that I maybe should have seen. Perhaps his eyeliner should have been a tip (or maybe it was mascara?). Maybe I should have known when he dropped the casual opinion that $300 in HOA fees a month was not unreasonable. Or when he told us that vegans don’t honor animals by not eating them.
On the other hand, conversation and laughter about which Hogwarts house we belonged to, football teams, whiskey, and what brought us to the hotel gave no indication of things to come. It does bartenders well to be friendly, the more someone likes you, the more they’ll tip you, right?
We were excited for weeks about our night out.
I’d spent the four days prior at a writer’s retreat on a gorgeous, Washington island surrounded by open hearts and a general awareness. Awareness of our surroundings, of humanity, of how we relate to other people, of the responsibility we might have to other people. I built in extra time for self-care upon my return to the mainland, the headlining event being a grown-up sleepover with my soul sister.
We were excited for weeks about our night out, looking forward to relaxing, to feeding our…
