The Real Coyote Ugly

If you’ve ever seen the movie Coyote Ugly, you were probably mildly entertained for the hour-and-a-half you sat through it and then put it in the dark recesses of your mind.

Recently, it all came flooding back to me as I stepped into a Manhattan bar. My wildest dreams would come true if certain movies came to life. I would love to stumble upon Harry Potter, the infamous “Chosen One,” who would reveal the magical world of wizards and witches to me. But when it comes to a movie involving half-naked women dancing on a bar, I would rather fiction remain fiction.

Nonetheless, I arrived at the scuzzy spot and had to make the best of it. At first, I was just distracted by the large bra collection adorning the wall. Maybe Andy Warhol would consider the wall of bras “art,” but I just wondered where they all came from. Do women go there, get really drunk, and then decide it’s a good idea to take off their bra? I’m no prude, but then again, it’s not a Rolling Stones concert.

Maybe it’s just all in good fun. It’s liberating to take off your bra and let your ta-tas feel free. At least these women would have a shirt over top of their bra so as not to completely expose themselves. But this is more than I can say for the bartenders. As I walked into the smelly and loud cavern, the first thing I noticed was that the bartender was wearing a bra top. She was definitely letting it all hang out.

It’s not like I really had a problem with her attire from the outset, but her sexist remarks were what really struck me. I was with one girl and one guy. The guy I was with ordered us three beers…the dreaded Budweiser (apparently). The bartender looked at my girlfriend and I, saying “Is that what you ladies want?” It didn’t matter that we had already agreed to it. I guess she thought that it wasn’t “classy” enough. Maybe we were supposed to order wine, cocktails, or just something more expensive. All that was running through my head was that I needed something that came in a bottle… just in case.

My girlfriend proceeded to pay for the drinks and – get this – the bartender refused to take the cash! I guess if the women are showing some skin, guys should show them the money.

Anyway, the bartender only accepted the money by force. But here comes the kicker: she says to the guy we’re with, “You should pay for these ladies’ drinks because they’re hot ladies. They’re both too hot for you.” Needless to say, the comment caught me off-guard and I didn’t know what else to do but chug my Bud and hope that a good song came on that I could enjoy in a dark corner.

Now, I would also complain about the $10 cover charge, but the sexism was more of a blow than the money. Is this still what it’s like when men and women go out together? The man is expected to pay and the woman should kindly accept, dance on the bar, and maybe even take off her bra? Mind you, the ladies that did strut their stuff, Coyote Ugly style, seemed to have a good time. All the power to them, but I’m still wary of the bar scene.

Is sexism back in style? Sure, I love when a man pays for drinks when I’m out; I think a free drink tastes great. And chances are men like a free drink too, but women have difficulty returning the favour because of the lingering sexism that exists in social etiquette rules.

It’s almost like there was an invisible sign explaining that men had to flash their cash and women their breasts. Is this the transaction that we’ve come to expect when we go to a club?

Like the movie, this incident will be stored in the deep dungeons of my memory. For all of our sakes, let’s just hope nights like this don’t happen as often as I think they do.

Contact the author here: tinybart@morningquickie.com