STEPH DEROSA: DEAR BAR-FLY >>>

Bandittoe Betty, with KAke and I, decided to take an easy lunch last week and bask in the warm confines of the Pinwheel Catering's Herban Cafe. The menu gave us scores of options, which delighted us in knowing that we finally had new, refreshing lunch choices. Any place that will put up with my posse, pour me a glass of wine, and hand me a homemade cookie is a sure thing. This goes as well for our other favorite lunch spot: The Rosewood Cafe.

It was really hard for me to make it to the bathroom without snapping at least 10 pictures. The long, white hallway walls framed the black and white sketches that were telling you a story you were dying to hear. I was captivated in an ADD kind-of way, but eventually made it to the Herban Cafe's potty.

I felt as though I was all of the sudden transported to a place that wasn't a typical restaurant bathroom. So much so that it resembled a bathroom at a friend's house. It was decorated in temperate colors with pieces of furniture that were un-ostentatious. It's as if they were saying to me,You ARE at you're friend's house.

Something about the sit back and enjoy yourself because you are in a friend's kitchen's atmosphere at Herban Cafe that day made the conversation at lunch one of the most amusing the three of us have ever had. With our massive brainpower (just pretend) and sheer frustration of dorky mankind, we devised a letter to all men who think they are tha shit,when clearly¬" they are not. Granted, most of this is a frustrated Bandito Betty as she bartends to pay the bills:

Dear Bar-Fly with a penis,

You sit at the bar all by yourself and attempt to make idle conversation with the pretty bartender. We give you props, because going to a bar alone is a feat in itself that we can respect. Kudos to you on that one, dear sir. But don't think that your not-so-clever pickup lines and lame conversation starters are getting you anywhere.

Subtly insulting the pretty bartender does not make you attractive. For instance, it's not OK to ask,So what's that tattoo supposed to be? Were you a sailor or something stupid like that? Nothing about that question is telling the bartender, Hey, I'd love to have an intelligent conversation with you. Because clearly, you're not.

Telling her that she'd get more tips if she took off her wedding ring is not helping your cause. It's also very obvious you're an idiot if you tell her you think her wedding ring is a fake. Seriously. Oh, and no, she does not have the ring just to keep guys like you from hitting on her. That's a fucking brilliant one. If it is a deterrent from guys like you, it's undoubtedly not working.

When you're telling a story, and it's related to Mexico, there's no need for you to tell the story in a Spanish accent. It also goes for conversations that involve tea: A British accent is unnecessary.

Open a fucking tab, dude. You're at the bar, you know you're going to have more than one drink, why do you need the bartender to run your credit card every time? To look at her ass? Yeah, she figured it out. How did she know? There's a mirror behind the taps, Fabio. Once again, it's not getting you anywhere. Except maybe some memories for you to take home later that night when you're all alone¬" just you, your lotion, and some Kleenex.

Come in and have a beer, talk normal, and don't try to be more intelligent than you are. Don't think too hard. Attractiveness in a man is measured not by his ability to out-smart the woman, but in his ability to just be real.

Hope this helps, Mr. Bar-Fly with a penis.

Love,
Steph, The KAke, and of course: Bandito Betty