It's finally the weekend, (or, let's face it, after 4 p.m. on any given day) and you are ready to relax with a drink in your hand. You're pulling up those Nike socks or applying blush, and I'm mentally preparing for the anguish that is bartending in a college town.

Don't get me wrong, I love my job and I have fun doing it. However, like with any job, bartending comes with it's on setbacks...and you may be one of them. From the beer aficionados to the Fireball connoisseurs, here is a look into what your friendly neighborhood bartender really thinks of you and your order.

The "What is the cheapest shot that you have?" guy:

You. You are the cheapest thing in this bar.

Vodka soda, LOTS of lime:

You don't like vodka, and you don't like soda, but you REALLY don't like calories. Props to you if you picked anything other than well vodka. Extra props if you actually know what a "well" is.

The "One...two...three...eight Fireballs!" person:

You are freshly 21 (hopefully) and you are trying to impress somebody by buying them and their friends drinks, while hoping that they don't realize that you're at the Corner Club and Fireball is $2. You will not tip, and I will remember.

Whiskey neat:

You have many leather-bound books, and your apartment smells of rich mahogany. I'm also considering taking you home. Kidding. Kind of.

The "Make me something good" girl:

You are the worst of the worst. I like gin martinis. So if you enjoy flamingo colored shooters that taste like gum drops, you are not going to like the drink that I put in front of you. I will still charge you $6 and you will write something rude about me on the bathroom wall.

Shot of well tequila:

You wear a lot of eye makeup, or you are still rocking your DC shoes from 2007. You may be on the emotional side, but you like to make friends with the old-timer regulars, and I respect you for that. Your taxi will be out front in approximately one hour.

A shot of gin...for your friend...on his 21st birthday:

It's very possible that you are going straight to Hell. You can upgrade that to a Jacuzzi suite down there if you really go all out and order him a B252. If you're not sure what that entails, I will use it in a sentence for you:

"Johnny took a B252 shot, left his body, saw the ghost's of CJ's past, threw up on the bar top, and then passed out."

It's Bacardi 151. And Wild Turkey. Bacardi 151 and WILD TURKEY WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU.

Flavored Pina Colada:

You are either a girl, or you are at the bar with your girlfriend. You made her order that for you and you leave it perfectly centered in between the two of you for easy access, and so nobody will think that it's yours. You tip generously because you are afraid that the bartender will reveal your secret.

Manhattan:

You are one classy broad, and you understand that what you're drinking is actually an art form. I start making your drink before you even order it, because you tip well and I like you. Unless you ordered it for $3 in the middle of a packed Blue Monday at the Garden. Then you're just an a**.

Tub of Bud Light:

You are wearing something with neon on it and a flat bill hat. You are sweating into a crew neck sweatshirt because you forgot you had your letters on and needed to cover them up before you walked into the bar. You awkwardly stare at the $1.50 change you get back and decide to leave the quarters.

Caribou Lou: You heard this on a rap song in 2006 and you don't actually know what's in it, but if it's good enough for Tech N9ne, it's good enough for you. (Also applicable to gin and juice.)

Jager Bomb: You just got a new haircut and I can see your nipples through your muscle tee. You are easy to spot walking around the bar hitting on women until one of them takes the bait. None of them will because you are wearing sunglasses inside.

Vodka Redbull:

Your ID is fake. Or you hate yourself. These two things occasionally come together to make a beautiful disaster.

The "Make it EXTRA good this time." (wink, wink,) dude:

You wear a lot of cologne, and think that flipping me an extra dollar is going to get me to pour you two shots for the price of one. I will not be pouring you any extra booze, but I will keep the dollar. You may or may not be prematurely balding.

IPA:

You're decisive, and you will typically take my recommendation on our best tap. You always tip well and actually enjoy the band that is playing. You can come back. You can always come back.