What I learned in a Portland bar

So, Portland was fun. I spent more time hanging out in bars this October than I had accumulated in the past 30 years.
Now, I've shared my ignorance, so if you're a barfly and already knew all of these things you may not be surprised by my findings. I certainly was; I had no idea how much I was missing out on.
The first thing I learned was that it really helps to know your bartender. If you know your bartender, and aren't drooling all over them, you will immediately seem cooler to everyone in the bar than you really are. It's your job to not blow your cover, the bartender can't cover up all of your moles. That's what the alcohol is for, but you have to wait for it to kick in before you revert to your dorky self.
The second thing I learned it that when the bartender loves you and purports you to be one bad ass individual, this will put you several levels above the coolness that just knowing them confers upon you. Thanks, Pedro.
The next thing I learned, which after ruminating on #'s 1 & 2 above should be obvious, is that when a bartender steps behind the bar they gain the same superpowers as a rock star who has just jumped on stage. Now Pedro and M. are very cool people (attractive, too, according to the reports) but when they step behind the bar and throw that white towel over their shoulders they turn into Greek gods of booze. People will do anything to get their attention.