May 21, 2014

I'm Leaving You And I'm Taking the Dive Bar With Me

I live in a city that’s all about its corner bars. I hang out with a lot of guys at corner bars. It’s what I like to do. Go on a date? Forget it. Throw this lady a beer and shot and we can bypass the rest of that pointless charade.

But when the dream is over, who takes the coveted favorite dive bar?

The answer is me.

I take the dive bar. The dive bar is mine.

I don’t mean to be selfish or immature but like all semi-shared assets in a fleeting romance, bars need to be split according to basic breakup etiquette. They know my name at the dive bar. They make my drinks the way I like them. This is where I go to dish juicy gossip over a cheap martini. I need that particular freedom of speech.

Just like toothbrushes, pets and spare keys, custody should be agreed upon upfront. Really, you’re doing each other a favor by divvying up the bar scene. You can skip awkwardly running into one another on dates. You don’t have to make small talk or fruitlessly attempt to ignore one another. You can simply just go to different bars.

But how do you divvy up the rest of the bar scene?

1. Margarita bars go to the gal pal. 
That’s just, like, the rules of feminism. Margaritas bars are a place where females go to laugh about their sexual misadventures and make eyes at the buttoned up mistake at the end of the bar. (Really, what kind of guys are you meeting at a tiki bar?) It’s only right to award this place to the gals.

2. Corner bars are divided territorially.
Whoever lives closer, gets the dive. No one should have to walk more than three blocks to “their” corner bar. It’s called a corner bar because it’s on the corner. People who live on that block go there. End of story.

"I came here to murder you!"
3. Venues and party bars are neutral territory.
You both have friends and interests here. This one is Switzerland. You’re less likely to be forced to interact with one another here. The more crowded, the better, and the easier to duck out if need be.

4. Date bars and BYOBs are at your discretion.
Hit up the Italian joint at your own risk. While I always advise against double dipping at the olive oil bowl, it’s not totally unheard of for you to want to return to a special date spot. Just remember: you do not want to be stuck at the communal four top, together.

5. “Your” bar is your bar. 
If either of you introduced the other to a particularly great bar, it belongs to the founder. It’s only fair.

Respecting your Ex-SO’s bar scene is respecting their space. The bar is a place of reflection. This is what we mean when we say that we need to respect one another’s “boundaries.” Me? I just need some space. And that space is specifically located on a corner near my house.

And if he does trample all over my triple sec parade…


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