...and some stranger needs to buy me a drink

A work valued colleague and one of my best friends in the world has this remarkable ability to get a variety of stuff provided to her for free. Oddly, it usually happens on Fridays…and often takes the form of some stranger buying her lunch or perhaps an adult beverage. Sometimes, if she’s dinning out when her better-half is on the road, she even gets a complimentary dinner. As a matter of fact, having an unfamiliar person or random bartender provide something gratis has become such a common occurrence for her, she’s taking to referring to the last day of the work week as “free Fridays.” She was bragging to a fellow male coworker and me this past Wednesday about her special skill, when the sheer inequity of her talent for receiving complimentary food and drink really started to get under my skin.

You see, here’s the deal. One of this individual’s most admirable characteristics is that I’m convinced she’s incapable of telling a lie. Much to my dismay…she doesn’t use profanity and always refrains from saying even the slightest mean-spirited thing about any fellow human being (even when she has the luxury of doing it behind someone’s back…I so don’t get that). So…it’s not like she’s embellishing her ability to have people buy her stuff…it just seems to happen and she’s just telling it like it is. As a matter of fact, just last Friday…the bartender at a swanky local restaurant picked up her lunch…and I believe a couple or beverages to boot.  

So…you’re probably asking yourself…what’s the problem? Well, it’s really pretty simple. You see, I just turned 51 and I typically eat out a minimum of about 7 or 8 times a week (5 lunches and two weekend dinners). I’m guessing I’ve dined out with basically this same frequency since the time when I transitioned from my construction electrician’s job to a largely office gig about 15 years ago. So…while I’m not real great at math, it seems to me that’s 7 meals a week times 52 weeks a year makes for about 364 restaurant meals a year. If you multiply that over the last 15 years (15 x 364), that comes to roughly 5,460 restaurant experiences since the late 90s alone. Prior to that, from the time I was 18 years old to the age of about 36 while I worked as an electrician, a very conservative estimate was that I ate out at least 5 times a week (usually more dinners). If you multiply the 5 times 52 weeks a years, I think that comes to approximately 260 times a year. Multiply that by the 18-year span from 18 to 36 (or however many freaking years that is), and you’ve got another 4,680 meals to add to the 5,460 modern era dinning visits. If you add those two totals together, it’s clear I’ve dined out well over 10,000 times from the time I was 18 years old. To be honest I’m quite certain the number is considerably higher…but for the sake of argument…let’s stick with the 10,000 figure.

So, over the last 33 years, I’ve been in restaurants a minimum of 10,000 times. Now, while I’m never confused for Brad Pitt or Denzel Washington (actually not true…but that’s another Friday story) or Aston Kutcher in manpris, I’m not exactly Quasimodo either. Sure, I could have hipper clothes, a six pack instead of a keg or a more stylish haircut, but aside from my frumpy clothing and deteriorating physique, it’s not like I’m chopped liver either. There have been ample opportunities for some stranger sitting across the restaurant to pick up my meal or send over a free drink, but the fact-of-the-matter is I’m zero for 10,000. Not one time in the span of 18 to 51 has anybody ever randomly bought me a drink or picked up my lunch. No waiter has ever said “this one’s on the mysterious lady in red in the booth by the window” or “compliments of Mr. Soros” or even “this ones on the masked man with the white horse.” Sure…a litany of cherished friends and valued colleagues have generously taking me to lunch or provided me with very nice restaurant gift cards, but with respect to random buys…I’ve got nothing…zero, zilch, nada.

As my work colleagues mulled this over last Wednesday in the conversation alluded to above, we began to explore some possible explanations for her prowess and my dismal 51-year dry spell. My fellow male coworker theorized that at least part of the reason for my drought was due to my gender, and there were various other hypotheses offered about body language and facial expressions. I logically reasoned that it could be that I’m just too cool, or that I exude too much confidence. Maybe it’s that I just ooze some level of class or telegraph some extraordinary station of success that leaves folks feeling absolved from any need to randomly extend me charity. Then, amidst this exploration of these increasingly likely explanations, my dear friend with the amazing knack for getting her meals and drinks paid by strangers matter-of-factly offered this straightforward explanation. “Maybe people think you’re an A-hole.”

Now…usually it’s tough to follow up on a gem like that, but as if that wasn’t insightful enough…she continued by noting there is actually a new book that might offer some insight into my dilemma entitled “Assh#le.” Convinced to prove the “good things come in threes theorem,” she then closed with (I swear on a bible I’m not making this up), “maybe you just need to smile more.”

So the day started with 290 folks on my holiday card list…and ended with 289.

It’s Friday and I’m determined to solve this confounding mystery. I’m going to hit some bars and restaurants and get at least one random jackass to buy me one stinking drink…or at least pick up my usual side of brussels sprouts. I’m going to disprove this A-Hole theory and force my myself to chat up every simple-minded waiter or mind-numbingly boring bartender. Instead of rolling my eyes and shaking my head in disgust, I’m going to return any stranger’s inviting brief smile with a mildly pleasant manufactured expression. And when some nitwit tries to start a random buzz-killing conversation about the warm December weather or the Redskins playoff hopes, I’ll stay clear of my standard “hey no offense… but I came in here alone for a reason” response and attempt to feign some level of interest. Someway, somehow, I’m going to get to the bottom of this 51-year shutout. I swear…I just don’t get it.

Have a great free Friday and a wonderful weekend. If you can, enjoy the near 70-degree Washington holiday season weather and go out and do something really nice just for you.  Sorry for all the typos, poor grammar, improper use of words like “literally” and the many misspellings. I know this is a mess. Listen to some music…it will make it all better...or at least a little better. 

If you really love me so...