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" Lovelies: It seems like it&amp;#039;s been a while since I&amp;#039;ve had crushes on people from whom I order food or drink. Back in the day, I used to be in love with Laurence, the bartender at Pastis. Or Rory, the bartender from Raoul&amp;#039;s. Or Garrett, the bartender from The Ear Inn. Those were places I went fairly frequently--when I had a real job and lived in Manhattan proper. And though my crushes weren&amp;#039;t all that serious or painful ... well, I&amp;#039;m sure I would&amp;#039;ve made out with any of those guys if the opportunity had arisen. Too bad Laurence was married and Rory had a serious girlfriend and Garrett ... well, who knows what he was up to, after hours, but I&amp;#039;m sure it was mischief! (Hmm, you know what&amp;#039;s funny, come to think of it? They all had British Isle accents. Rory was from Ireland; Laurence was born in Ireland but grew up in London or thereabouts; and Garrett was from England too--Manchester, I think.) Anyway, this week, for the first time in a long while, I&amp;#039;ve been crushing on people in the so-called service industry again. There&amp;#039;s the adorable little mustachio-ed dude who works at Manna, a sandwich place in Williamsburg where my friend Harry Berkeley and I spent the afternoon yesterday, arguing about a screenplay we&amp;#039;re trying to write. I dunno what it was about the sandwich man, except he smiled so sweetly, and was so agreeable about everything. I think he probably weighs about 20 pounds soaking wet--and I generally like my men to be bigger and broader than I am (but also trim). Regardless, I found myself thinking, after I left, that I should just call and ask him out.  My other random server-crushes: I&amp;#039;m head-over-heels for the Irish dude (that accent again!) who works downstairs at Central Bar, in the East Village. And I think the guy named Gabe--with the handlebar moustache--who works at Weather Up in Prospect Heights is such a sweetheart. Plus, he rides a bike! Sexy! (Weird: This time around, the common factor in all my crushes seems to be facial hair--which I normally hate. Hmm.) The last time I had any sort of entanglement with a bartender, it was after I ran into a guy used to work at Stonehome Wine Bar (who shall remain nameless) on the corner, near the Dean Street subway stop on Flatbush. We exchanged numbers, and he sent me lots of booty texts after that, all of which I basically ignored. But one night, I finally wrote back to say: &amp;quot;Why don&amp;#039;t you ask me out on a proper date sometime?&amp;quot;  Never heard from him again. Anyway, my lovelies ... I think half the reason I get crushes on these people is because they are so nice and smiley. But they are PAID to be nice and smiley to me! So it&amp;#039;s all a bit ridiculous. Don&amp;#039;t you think?  Do you have crushes on people at YOUR local bar? The local coffee shop? Your favorite brunch place? xxx "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
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