The Open Bar Was Never Free

Two weddings this month. August does that.

Two open bars.

And at both, the same quiet math starts running in the background. The bar is free, so every drink you don't order somehow feels like something you're leaving behind.

A glass of water at an open bar almost feels wrong. Like turning down something that's already been paid for.

I've felt that for years.

I just never really questioned it.

The bar changes the math

An open bar is generous. Someone paid for it.

But once it's paid for, something changes. The drink stops being just a drink. It's already there, already paid for, waiting for you.

Put the exact same people at a cash bar and the math changes. You pay for what you want, and when you're done, you stop.

Same room. Same people. The only thing that changed is who paid.

And somehow that changes whether skipping the next drink feels like a choice or like you're leaving something behind.

That's the part I find interesting.

You didn't necessarily decide you wanted another drink. You just decided you didn't want to waste something that was free.

Those can feel like the same decision for a few hours.

They're not.

Don't leave money on the table

I use that expression in business all the time.

Don't leave money on the table.

If there's value sitting there, take it. And at an open bar, it's easy to apply the exact same logic.

The next drink is right there. It's already paid for. Why wouldn't you take it?

For a long time, that's pretty much how I thought about it.

But I was only doing half the math.

Because the next drink might be free.

Tomorrow isn't.

Two weddings

So I did the math differently this month.

Two weddings. Two Saturdays.

A few years ago, I probably would have gone pretty hard at both. And I would have had a great time.

But I also know what usually came with that. Parts of the night I didn't really remember. A Sunday where I wasn't really present. And when you have kids, losing a Sunday like that starts to feel pretty expensive.

Then another wedding and the same thing again.

And these aren't random nights.

They're weddings. People I love getting married. Nights I'll probably remember and talk about for years.

At some point, I realized I was so focused on getting everything I could out of the open bar that I wasn't thinking about what I actually wanted to get out of the wedding.

I'm not there for the open bar.

I'm there for the wedding.

So now I do it differently

I still drink. I'll have one or two. Real drinks that I actually want and enjoy.

Then, when I feel like I'm good, I stop.

It sounds simple. But an open bar doesn't always make stopping easy.

There can be forty kinds of alcohol behind the bar. Beer, wine, cocktails, spirits.

Then you decide you don't want another alcoholic drink and suddenly the options get pretty limited.

Water. Pop. Maybe soda water with lime.

I've always found that interesting.

The one place designed to give you options all night suddenly doesn't have many the second you decide you don't want alcohol.

But I don't let that change the decision anymore.

I have what I want. Then I move on with the night.

I had the math backwards

For a long time, I thought getting my money's worth meant having another drink.

Now I think about what I actually get to take home from the night.

The conversations. The speeches. The dancing. The end of the night.

And the next morning.

I'm not saying everyone should do the same thing. I'm not interested in telling anyone how much they should or shouldn't drink.

I just realized what works better for me.

The open bar was never really free.

The bill just showed up the next day.

For years, I was so focused on not leaving money on the table that I didn't realize what I was actually leaving behind.

Turns out I was looking at the wrong table.

SP.