A man walked in, and after I greeted him I asked him what I could get him to drink. I know that “What can I get for you?” is a very open ended question, and I usually brace myself for a variety of answers. The response I got was “I don’t know. What’s your thing?”
My “thing.” I mean, was he expecting “handcuffs and lesbian porn” or something a little more G rated like “late movies and a bottle of wine?” When it comes to food I could go for anything as long as it’s with pasta. I’m a bit of a smart ass with a snarky but brutally honest personality. Love the blues and country music, hate anchovies and chicken liver. My “thing.” It wasn’t even said with a smile or an exasperated sigh.
I told him that I had been tending bar for a number of years and that it wasn’t about what MY thing was but about what HIS thing was. I couldn’t even get “Well I hate tequila” out of him. Maybe it would have been better if he had said “What drink do you enjoy making?” or “Do you have a signature cocktail on your bar menu?” But what I got was “What’s your thing?”
Wish I could have said, “My thing is straight forward answers.” But what he got was a slightly dirty Ketel One martini straight up with no fruit.