How To Pour A Woman A Drink In 2015
They say what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas, but after a recent visit there, I learned a valuable lesson that I took back home with me: We have to improve the way we get women drinks at parties.
I visited Las Vegas three weeks ago with 10 friends of mine, all men. In Vegas, this means bottle service is the only way we were being let in any parties. So that’s how we rolled up and down the strip, with our moral compasses spinning like stop-and-go rims.
Vegas is all jungle, all wildlife, and everyone is okay with that in a place nicknamed Sin City. I was fortunate to be on a team of guys who bought more tables than you would find in a furniture store. But the women who came to our tables didn’t smell the success that was dripping off the journalist and his motley crew of doctors. They smelled the vodka. Us guys were human coupons, and we were okay with that. After all, chivalry still exists in Vegas, even if it’s as a guise. Men are trying to charm pants off, literally.
This type of environment makes it easy to forget about things like decency, but the opposite was happening with me. On our first night there, I developed a hyper awareness with the women I met that stayed with me the entire weekend.
As one of the few guys on the trip in a relationship, my strategy for staying out of trouble was to not initiate a lot of one-on-one conversations with women. Instead, I talked to every and any girl for short amounts of time. But one girl was determined to make me notice her, because she was noticing me and when I say me, I mean, my eyebrows. She came up to me and said, “I love your eyebrows.” This is actually a common compliment for me, but it never gets old and even if that was her way of asking for a drink, flattery got her far. “Thank you,” I said. “What’s your name?” She told me and even though I didn’t care enough to remember, I still did the customary thing men do. “Do you want a drink?” I said. “Yes,” she said.
When I turned around to get her glass, her back was turned to me as she was talking to one of her girlfriends. I tapped her on her shoulder, but it wasn’t to ask her which of our fine liquors she wanted to drink. “Here,” I said, putting the glass in her hand. “Hold this.”
“Do you want ice?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she said. I scooped some cubes in the glass, then handed it to her.
I took the bottle of Grey Goose, then started to pour it in her glass.
“Tell me when,” I said. She put her hand up indicating she was straight, then I asked her what she wanted to mix it with. “Cranberry juice,” she said. I took the carafe and topped her glass.
Then I poured myself a drink and said to her, “Cheers.”
I got her a couple more drinks and each time, I served her them the exact same way I served the first one. After the third one, I asked her if she could use some water, which turned out to be exactly what she wanted.
If you’re reading up until this point, you’re probably wondering what happened next with the girl, and I can honestly tell you nothing. This story isn’t about the girl, so much as it’s about me realizing the proper way to pour a woman a drink in 2015.
Over the years, as the conversation around sexual consent between men and women has intensified, it has also given me some great takeaways. One thing that I have noticed is, we give women all these rules when they go out to party, but for some reason, we don’t do the same for men.
Don’t rape. Don’t take advantage of women. These might seem simple enough because it’s the law, but in Vegas I thought it would also be wise to add the above-mentioned extra steps to this thoughtful gesture if for no other reason than to show some solidarity.
It’s frustrating that we rarely ever delve into the real-life social dynamics of a simple exchange between men and women that goes further back than prohibition. When we talk about these issues, we often focus on the extreme cases we see in the headlines. We don’t talk about how parties get out of hand and people let down their guards. These things happen when we’re out having fun and being adults. I would like to think as we get older, some of us are a little more hip than we used to be about drinking with strangers and our own drinking limits, but none of us care about that when we’re grown and feeling sexy, especially in a place like Vegas. How else can you explain the popularity of songs such as this…
I know that last song is really just a turnt take on matrimony, but ain’t no one thinking about happily ever after when the beat drops. Songs about bad decisions are the best songs to hear when we’re in places that allow for bad decisions. We don’t care. We’re grown. Hit the music, pour up, drink. Repeat. It’s all fun and games until those headlines start rolling in, and in this day and age, they seem to be rolling in every week. That’s why when I listen to those songs, I prefer to do so when I’m not sober. They feel less weird that way.
Even if a woman knows nothing more than your first name, even if you’re not planning on sleeping with the woman you’re chatting up, even if you definitely want that woman to come home with you the same night you meet her, no amount of alcohol is more intoxicating than comfort (not Southern). Buying a woman a drink, pouring a woman a drink, has become a questionable proposition in this day and age. What used to be a very common give-and-take between men and women has now been deemed by some as a creep move. And I can’t say that isn’t a valid feeling. Consider how often we hear about a woman getting taken advantage of and it only makes sense why women these days are more cautious with a guy they just met.
But also consider how you as a man may want to tread carefully too. Let her watch you pour her a drink. Keep her standing next to you at the bar while the bartender makes her drink. If she looks like she’s had enough drinks, ask her if she wants to buy a bottle of water.
These are my new rules for 2015, and as a man who just executed them, I can promise you, they are not that hard to follow.
Case in point: My second day in Vegas, new party, new women at our cabana. Again, I’m talking to one of the girls in the group that we invited over, and I ask her if she’d like a drink. She says yes, and I tell her to follow me. “Where are we going?” she says.
“Just over here to get the drink,” I say.
I do the same move the night before: Fill the glass with ice, tell her to hold it and begin my pour.
“Wait,” she says. “Are you doing this because…”
“Yep,” I said. “That’s exactly why I’m doing it.”
“Smart,” she said. “And sweet.”
I poured myself a drink, put down the bottle, and we touched glasses. “Cheers,” I said.