Shots, Shots...shots?

This Friday, the restaurant was exceptionally slow. Which is both a waitress' nightmare and a waitress' dream come true. Because holla, I got out by 9 p.m. which hasn't happened since...I don't know when. So as soon as we escaped those prison walls, a fellow server and I jumped downtown and plopped onto a patio, foiling another poor waitress' dreams of an early night off (suckaaaa). 
We were eyeballing some super cuties in the corner, but we gave up because they weren't really getting the hint. So we just refined ourselves to classy margaritas and martinis and baseball watching, while occasionally still managing to find ourselves peeping over -- just in case they finally got the hint. After about an hour we decided, they must be gay. 
And after about another half hour, two shots arrived, compliments of the boys in the corner. At which point we realized, we didn't really know what to do with these shots that we had been waiting to arrive for the past hour and a half. Meredith was all, I don't like cinnamon, eww. And I was all, I can't take shots, this is embarrassing (no for real, it's just like too much liquid at once and I suck). And then in unison we were both, sorry we thought you were gay? 
Then they tried to get us to join their tables. Meredith was all, I don't know how to flirt, I always end up talking about my cat. And I was all, I don't know how to flirt because I'm in an awkward on off on off off off drinks off dinner dinner dinner off situation. 
And then our third friend Nina arrived, only to barrage me for always ending up finding strangers with sleeve tattoos anytime she met me at the bar. And I was all, don't haterate, appreciate. 
What type of crazies do you attract at the bar?