It was a week after my 21st birthday and I’d just gotten back from Hawaii. I wanted to celebrate properly- by bar hopping.
I’d recently discovered a love of tourists and I wanted to go to time square. It was as uncool as my friend Meal, who was with me, warned me it would be. A bunch of families and tacky, middle aged tourists. So we headed back home to the East village.
I was walking around, entering every bar and asking for a free birthday shot. Pretty much every place said yes.
I entered a random, empty bar called Finnerty’s and saw a pair of beautiful nipples poking through his white tee. How could a man have beautiful nipples? Meet Patrick. He was a 38 year old actor with a timeless, chiseled square face. His white teeth were glowing against his tan skin. But his pecs… He tee wasn’t right like a jersey shore bro would wear to show his pair off. It was loose enough that he didn’t look like a douche but the white color enabled them to shine through. And they were so defined that his tee contoured them regardless of the fit. He wore the tee with a pair of jeans- it was the perfect, all American, Zac Efron in 17 Again, outfit. I was in love.
“Normally we don’t do that but sure. That was ballsy of you to ask,” said Patrick. He used his buff arms and strong hands to pour me a shot of Jameson. After I took it, I headed to the next bar with a huge grin on my face.
Finnerty’s became my local bar on Thursdays and Sunday’s, the days Patrick worked. Patrick would always make sure that my tab was next to nothing. I would often try and stay until Patrick closed so that I could help him put up the chairs and hope that he would invite me back with him. He never did. I even ended up moving next door to Finnerty’s (semi-coincidentally) and I tried inviting to gatherings with my friends. But no luck.
I did get to hear his stories about Morocco, his love of crossfit, get to know his friends, and go home with a bunch of guys at the bar that weren’t Patrick.