One of my favorite bartenders also frequents his own establishment in his off-hours. We’ve gotten to know each other a bit, buy each other drinks, the usual thing. He’s my bro, my buddy; I’d be his wingman anytime.
A couple of weeks back, I was sitting at a table with work buds, and he came up and talked to us for a bit. Then, speaking to one of my friends but looking directly at me from 2 feet away, he said, “I don’t know, I’ve kind of got this boner for edar right now,” then says to me, “high five, right?” with his hand up.
Me: “I… um… Is this something we high-five over? Like…”
I gave him the high-five and shook my head. Being a bro-chick can be confusing.