My husband and I were in Maine not too long ago. Before checking in to the hotel, we stopped for dinner at a pub in Hallowell. This pub, The Liberal Cup, was packed. The food is fantastic (if you’re ever there, try the Haddock Napoleon) and it’s one of those places that feels like home. After dinner, we went to the hotel to check in. The front desk clerk was accommodating and asked if we needed any dinner suggestions for the evening. She appeared young, maybe 25-ish, had chipped maroon fingernail polish, and a friendly smile.
“No thanks. We actually just ate at that little bar-restaurant, The Liberal Cup,” I said. “It was great, but you probably know that already.” The woman smiled and shook her head.
“You haven’t been there?” I asked. “You should check it out. The food is good and it has a cozy vibe there.”
“I was there once. I tried the ‘bar scene’. It didn’t work out for me.”
“Why not?” I asked because at that point, I was intrigued.
“It reminded me too much of Cheers. I went there with low expectations and I was right. I don’t really do the ‘bar scene’ thing. I won’t be going back.” The clerk went on to describe the dull conversation, the price of the drinks, and her views on the shortage of single, worthwhile men.
“Okay, so that one didn’t work out. Which bar are we going to next?” I asked with an encouraging nod.
“I don’t think so. So, here’s your room key…”
I’m not saying it’s easy being single. I’m certainly not saying that at all. But, c’mon – you’re keeping your expectations low and you’re going out there, hoping for a bad time, so you can be right? Young lady, your Cliff Clavin might be in there waiting for you. Get in there and do some flirting. There’s a universal lesson here, folks. If you walk into a room expecting a bad time, that’s exactly what you’ll get.