In researching historical data for  St. Patrick’s Day festivities, I came across a statement that got me thinking. A spirits manufacturer was saying that you could tell everything you needed to know about an Irish person by which Irish whisky they drank. First, they only drink one brand and what that brand is can clue one into the social, economic and cultural class one belonged to.

In a nutshell, those who drink Bushmills tended to belong to the upper, UK-centric class and those who drank Jameson, to the hard-working, Ireland-centric middle class. And ne’er the twain shall meet…there IS no cross-over, once ones brand has been determined. Stereotyping, to be sure, but an interesting idea.

This is the very idea of targeted marketing… making one identify with a brand to announce to the world or the other people at the bar ones place in it. And it works. Let’s play a little game to see how well…

Who do you picture when you see a Bud and a shot of Jack on the bartop? An Apple Martini? A Strawberry Daiquiri? A tidy highball with peaty single malt, no ice?

My guess is, you think…longshoreman, Uptown Manhattan-ite, a ‘Bigger the Hair, the Closer to God’ Southern chick and a Brooks Brothers-clad CEO. Now mix them up…the longshoreman drinking a Daiquiri, the Belle with the scotch, the CEO with the Appletini and the socialite with the shot and beer. OK, that just feels wrong. And no matter how deliciously fruity and nummy that daiquiri is, Spike’s co-workers would never let him get away with that fluffy libation and just might take to calling him Tinkerbelle. Not pretty.

So what do you know about me when I tell you I am a Pinot/Porter/Port kinda chick…well, one, that I like words that start with P. Two, fond of alliteration. Three, I might have a rather urbane palette, a little cash and a fondness for richness and depth. Perhaps I enjoy cashmere and purple and spas. I might be a fan of winter, artisan chocolates and interesting cheeses. Perhaps I travel.

What do I know about you, Mr/Ms Pilsener/Chardonnay/Martini? That you like things a little more predictable, are a fan of fruits and herbs, you might have an upbeat personality, you like warmer climates and salads and that you consider yourself a trendsetter and an edge-cutter and that marketing works on you….that can be the only explanation for martinis, all of which taste like hospitals.

So, play the game the next time you are bellied up in an airport lounge. See if the drink matches the expectation. What you drink just might be speaking who you are to the world.

Because We are a Goddess and thus, larger than life, what We sit on is, ipso facto, also larger than life…abundantly, gloriously huge. Enormous. Epic.

All right, all right, spare Us the bootylicious, junk in the trunk, baby-got-back dreck and listen up. What can possibly be the reasoning behind making barstools so dang small and uncomfortable? It seems to Me that you, O Purveyor of Potent Potables, should want a guest to be comfortable so that they might stick around for a while and partake of your consumables and shower upon you their net worth. Right? That is the idea?

So why the 6” wide backless spinning leather Frisbees? Or the rock hard rock solid wooden squares? Without foot rungs! And Wobbly! Or those ridiculous ones made of milk cans and tractor seats. Tree trunks! Diner-counter seats!

Really? Why? Why I say?

OK, let Me answer Me for you, since with all My Goddessy Powers, I can actually hear you yelling this to the screen…they take up less space! They are cheap! They fit the ‘theme’! They are light and moveable!  They sail through the air like the Flying Willenda’s when heaved! (that’s for you bar fighters..), their form follows their function! (that’s for you Bauhausians…) ..and so on.

All valid, but lame, nevertheless, and doing nothing to keep heinies in seats. Some people (OK, Me..) choose where to go based on how comfortable the place is and have actually declined to go to a bar or restaurant because of uncomfortable chairs or booths or flow.

Get some comfortable chairs in your bars and I promise to come in and sit and drink for longer than the 10 minutes of perching uncomfortably like some erstwhile gargoyle on the cheap and cruddy little stool you call seating that I can stand before running screaming from the room. Make sure they have a comfortable wide seat, well placed footrests and a wide and sturdy back. You will keep your guests in those seats and spending money longer.

Now, go back to the first paragraph and sub the word ‘goddess’ for ‘American’ and you will see that it ain’t only the Goddess who might enjoy a little comfort for the kooloo….look around…there is no dearth of bountiful bums in these United States. Make’em happy with good quality, sturdy, comfortable seating. Namaste.