Allow me to set the scene for what happens at least twice a night and perversely intrigues me:

A group of 50-60 year olds will come to the bar usually at about 6 p.m. for cocktails before their dinner reservations later that night. It’s often two or three married couples, sometimes more, or sometimes it’s just a group of gentlemen out on the town. (One member of the group invariably orders a VO Manhattan straight-up, if that gives you a sense of the kind of people I’m talking about.) I’ll give them the drinks they’ve requested and ask them if they’d like it all together on one tab or separate. Nine times out of ten, one of the guys will say, “Oh, just put it all together.”

OK. Fine.

They’ll leisurely have their drinks, be told that their table is ready, tell me they’d like their bill, and then one of the following will happen when I present it to them:

1. Everyone will awkwardly stare at each other, hoping that someone else in their group volunteers to pick up the bar tab. (Least likely, but happens more than you’d think around here).

-or-

2. They’ll ask for their tab to be transferred to their table. (Frowned upon greatly by bartenders everywhere because that means we’re probably not seeing a tip on the drinks we just made)

-or-

3. Everyone in the group with a scrotum barrels for his wallet, whips it out, and heaves their credit card in my face at warp speed and with the least amount of decorum humanly possible. (This is interesting because I see old people do things quickly exactly never, except for this motion.) This is followed by the obligatory bickering amongst the group about who should pay, and who paid last time, and why Couple X invited everyone out so they should be the ones that pay. After that, everyone literally pleads with me to take their (or their husband’s) credit card. This is then followed by the guy who’s physically closest to me shoving his card in my hand, followed by his friends shooting me an often prolonged look of death.

The good news with Scenario 3 is that I usually get an above average tip from the person who winds up paying. I would imagine because he thinks that since I “took” his credit card, he owes me a bit. Whatever.

The bad news is that I (and the rest of the bar) just witnessed grown, professional, otherwise successful men look like complete buffoons and get riled up over paying for a $40 dollar bar tab, which makes me question just how grown up these people really are.