Humiliated, the young man claimed, "You're winning only because we've been drinking and you haven't."

Here he made his mistake.

"How many rounds of drinks have you had?" Lil asked.

"Four," the man said.

So Lil ordered herself five shots of Wild Turkey. She slammed the shots down, one after the other. Then Lil beat those little pricks once more just to teach them some manners.

Anyhow, that was my boss. I was afraid of her. I wanted to be her. I'd never been behind a bar before I came to work at the Coyote Ugly Saloon. Lil trained me herself. She didn't overload me with information at first. She didn't try to teach me how to mix drinks or even how to use the cash register. Basically I just followed her around and tried to absorb everything I could. I was obviously clueless. Not only could I not tend bar but I'd also shown up on my first night ridiculously dressed in tidy slacks and a buttondown charcoal gray wool sweater. During that first shift, my new boss gave me just two specific instructions about bartending. One: "Get those drinks out, and get them fast." Two: "Don't wear so much next time."

After a few months, these were my regulars: Redneck Lou, Bud Lite Lou, Chino, Gino, Anders, Morris, Reuben, Herbert (and his dog, Hoover), "Many Faces of Eve" Janet, the Plant Man, the Deaf Guy, Little Vinnie, Big Daddy, Beer Truck, Nazi Dave, Vietnam Bob, Spit-Take Phil, Eed-lee the Plumber, Bruce the Carpenter, Bill the Photographer, Ashley the Junkie, Slav the Pool Player, assorted employees of the Collins Bros. moving company and virtually the entire glazier's union. I have always hoped that Nazi Dave's nickname was an ironic joke.

Lil hired and fired many bartenders in her constant search for the perfect Coyote Ugly Saloon staff. Of course, she hired only women. Since most bar patrons were men, this was a great gimmick. I'll never understand why it's not a more common practice.

It was not always obvious what Lil was looking for in her women or why she was dissatisfied with those she discarded. She was ruthless. She gave no explanations. There were many bartenders at the Coyote Ugly Saloon whose careers lasted a single night. This could be perplexing. Many of the women that Lil fired were not only attractive but also perfectly competent bartenders. (Better than me, for instance, since they may have had previous experience at real bars, where one would be expected to know how to make a woo-woo, a mud slide or a grasshopper.) But there could be one thing about the girl that Lil didn't like, and that would be it—out the swingin' door.

There were bartenders who seemed to get fired because they were too fragile or too shy or too polite, of all things. (Early in my own Coyote Ugly Saloon career, I made the mistake of saying to a customer, "Here's your beer, sir." Lil overheard and shouted, "Don't even call anyone in this place 'sir'!" So I said, "I'm terribly sorry. I meant to say, 'Here's your beer, douche bag.'" Lil and the customer laughed. And I though, Oh, I get it, but I am a very quick study.) Some bartenders were gorgeous but not sexy, so what's the point? Some bartenders laughed a lot but were not funny themselves, so that didn't work, either.

It all sounds ridiculously capricious, but Lil had a good eye. And what did she look for in us? Ultimately, Lil loved us only if you loved us. Because if you come to a bar called the Coyote Ugly Saloon and you order a Pabst Blue Ribbon beer and a shot of Old Weller, then you are seeking a very specific experience. You are probably looking for a bar something like the bar I visited once in Corona, New Mexico, with the sign on the door that read, PLEASE LEAVE ALL GUNS AND KNIVES IN YOUR CAR. THANK YOU KINDLY.