^ T&T

Last year, I finally started drinking adultcocktails. No more with the “rum and cokes” or fruity concoctions. I triedManhattans (yum, but oh so stiff) and other “grown up” cocktails, but myfavourite has been Tanqueray and Tonic. I order them year-round; “summer timebeverage” be damned. The beverage is restorative no matter the season.

This afternoon I attended a conference, andprior to going in for the four hours of tedious “education,” I lubricatedmyself with a nice T&T in the hotel bar. I sat at the bar, where I wasattended by a very attentive bartender, an older gentleman. He was very politeto the point of obsequiousness.

I found this treatment striking. Striking,because most men don’t treat women in this manner. As a strong woman, I’m usedto having to “throw my weight around” in order to get men’s attention. I haveto evince brassiness and forthrightness in order to be heard, to be takenseriously, to be respected. Even the men I’ve managed have jostled their egosagainst mine, making it clear that they are not serving ME, they are serving mein pursuit of serving THEMSELVES. (Ah, this is a painfully repeating theme forme with men, even in love relationships. It was always about them, and neverabout me.)

This bartender was more subservient thanany man I can think of in my memory, and I found it intoxicating. (No punintended.) Clearly he was my elder. Clearly he was in a physical position to bemore dominant than he was, but he chose to be less overtly masculine and morecompliant, and I found myself compelled by the idea of such a man. It was theiron fist in a velvet glove – a conscious choice to suppress power to serve.

Maybe someday I’ll try one of those.