Talking to bartenders is a forgotten art. The questions you ask, the answers you give. The pauses. It all counts. Because God knows there is nothing more tedious than a boring conversation at the bar counter. The one which centres around John Coltrane or the pros and cons of going to Bordeaux.
First of all, don't be yourself. The bartender will soon find out that you are just another fucking tourist anyway, and at the end of the day (or, rather, night) you do not want to be lumped with a talkative Scottish student or a gawky Russian. Being yourself at the bar counter is a nuisance, and a waste. Bartenders won't care and you will die an alcoholic.
Secondly, don't start speaking before the second glass, you won't say anything of note anyway. If, however, the bartender tries to engage you into some dreary chat about your favourite cocktails, say something curt and meaningless, or just grin at him. In other words, do not rush it. Stay cold. Be a mystery.
And then, when the second glass is staring at you with a glorious abandon, go for it. In a voice smoked by silence and Japanese whisky, ask the bartender if he recognises you from the third season of Twin Peaks...
Or better still, try to find your way to a bar called Le Sherry Butt off Place de la Bastille in central Paris. The one place where the art of talking to bartenders is a waste. The sheer magic of these cocktails will shed a new light on one of Saul Bellow's brightest quotes: 'the great weight of the unspoken left them little to talk about'.
