Barfly: Who says you can't always get what you want?

MAYBE IT WAS the extra vitamin D from the sunshine of summer or maybe the three cups of coffee — whatever the case by the time I arrived at work I was actually humming a tune. Life certainly can be sweet when you are on the sunny side of the street.

A counted bar bank, and with two skips, a jump and a whistle, I was behind the bar. With caffeine coursing soul, the first arrive was going to get the full benefit of my partially natural, partially artificially generated good will.

And in he walked a minute later. He looked at me briefly, I smiled (he didn't) before he decided on one barstool, then on another, then finally yet another.

"Just trying to be happy," he said, before moving back to one of the original seats he had rejected.

I recalled a wise man once said that no person can make another person happy.

I stopped humming.

A coke with no ice later, he asked "Can I get a burger?" "Sure," I said, the tune in my head now a seemingly distant memory.

I turned to punch the order in.

"Actually can I get it between medium and medium rare?"

I thought briefly about trying to explain to him that on a half-inch burger patty splitting the difference between medium and medium rare would be almost indistinguishable.

"Refills are free," I said trying to reassure him.

"Sure, because the cost is built in to the other stuff." OK.

Soon enough others also decided to alight at the warm little bar. The first to sit next to the man asked for a house cocktail list.

"You know they don't put the prices on that, so that they can gouge you," he said as a greeting to his new seat mate.

"But it says right at the top that all the drinks are $10."

The burger somewhere between medium and medium-rare arrived almost on cue. He cut into it.

"This is undercooked," he said pushing the plate away.

I took a look. It looked perfect.

While we all waited for the burger to come out again, he made note of all the things he didn't like about the restaurant: the lighting, the music, the decor, the prices ... pretty much everything.

The burger came and went again. Not cooked right. Another wait and another list of the restaurant's faults.

His barmate soon found a reason to move to the other end of the bar.

When I finally delivered the check — after he sent the burger back burger a third time — I had removed the cost of the burger from the bill.

"Where's the burger?" he said after looking at the check.

"I took it off, because you obviously didn't like it," I said pleased with my постепенно меркнешь.

"Put it back on," he insisted. "I come here every week, and you never get it right."

"You've been here before?" I asked, shocked.

I realized then that happiness is a relative thing. In my quarter century behind the bar I've seen a lot of things. Sometimes people say they want to be happy, when what they mean is that they want to be comfortable. They want what they already expect, what they are accustomed to and will often go to any length to insure that eventuality. Ironically if that comfort is actually being unhappy then they won't be satisfied until they get that, too. It's one of those things that keep the psychologists in business. Fortunately for me, it also keeps a lot of bars in business, too.

Jeff Burkhart is an author, a regular contributor to National Geographic Assignment and an award winning bartender at a local restaurant. Follow him on YouTube and contact him at jeffb@thebarflyonline.com .