Many customers devour me with their eyes. I can’t tell whether it’s because they enjoy watching me tend bar or because they’re imagining me naked. Maybe both.

As a bartender, I instinctively assume that when someone sits directly in front of me and stares at me, they want to order something.

Often, however, when I ask them what they want, they immediately snap out of their trance as though they’ve been caught in some lewd voyeuristic act.

Finally, one asks me, what’s the closest beer you have to Blue Moon?

Blue Moon, I say.

I’ll have that.

I go to grab the beer. Still, I can’t escape the others’ constant hungry gaze.

I have a system.

Here’s a scenario to illustrate it:

Five deep at the bar. Mayhem.

One guy is making out with his boyfriend, gabbing with his girlfriend, smacking his guy friend on the bootie, dancing with his mom, and ordering several drinks, one at a time. But he keeps changing the order, stuttering, stumbling, blundering, forgetting.

I want a Grey Goose vodka, he says.

Grey Goose is vodka, I tell him.

He laughs at his mistake. Grey Goose cranberry, he says.

What else? I ask him.

Uhm, hold on, he says, and turns around to ask his mom what she’s having.

Another guy casually raises his hand to get my attention. Without making a show of it, he has a $20 bill ready to pay. I’ll take a Blue Moon, he says.

For the sake of expediency, I will serve this guy his beer while the other dude figures out the rest of his order.

Ordering a drink at a bar is an art in itself. Please, strive to be clear, concise, and direct. Much of my work boils down to communication. Tell me what you want. Do it clearly, and say it like you mean it.

Go ahead. Be baller.

If you sidle up to the bar with several friends, why not offer to buy everyone a round? Not only does it make you look classy and generous in front of your crew, it makes my life much easier, especially if I’m dealing with plastic.

Swiping one credit card for one transaction involving several drinks is much more efficient than swiping five or six credit cards for each individual. When seven people walk up to the bar as a group and each of them orders, and insists on paying, separately, it slows down service for everyone at the bar.

I love to cater to every patron’s whim, yet I truly appreciate those most considerate of drinkers who gallantly buy a round for their entire posse. It speeds up the process, and time is money. More importantly, time is alcohol, in your body, which makes you have more fun.

This unwritten rule of etiquette holds especially true, I would argue, at lower priced establishments like dive bars. Where I tend, for example, 5 drinks at happy hour can easily cost less than $20. This is roughly the price of just one or two drinks at swankier, more expensive joints in the area.

So next time you order a vodka soda, a Jack and coke, a Bud Light, and two shots of tequila, and the grand total is $19, just hand me that card, flash a sexy smile, and tell your posse, “I got it.” They, and I, will respect and remember you for the rest of the night. Even better, throw down cash and tip heftily. I will make sure it comes back to you.

You know you’re a bartender when you eat breakfast and drink that sacred morning cup of coffee at 8:30 PM. For the joe I go with Bustelo, and take it black. As far as victuals, I’ve developed a ritual. Sliced ripe avocado on whole grain toast or crusty French bread, with a squeeze of lime, salt, and a drizzle of olive oil. Drink your java, they say, for it’s a jungle out there. Just don’t forget your avocado.