It is one of those basic single-dude fantasies to go on some epic winter vacation where every day is filled with cliff drops and face shots in knee-deep powder, and every night is a rage-fest till last-call at some nightclub or bar where “success” would be measured by scoring with that hot bartender or waitress or local ski bunny.

And then there’s reality where this sort of thing never happens.

Note: these rules apply to guys trying to hook up with local chicks: waitresses, bartenders, etc., and may not be applicable if you’re hunting cougars or gnargoyles.

You are a tourist. There is strongly assymetrical hatred between locals and tourists; in many cases it borders on psycophathy but the bottom line is that locals hate tourists, and generally refuse to hook up with them.

You’re on vacation and you’re partying beyond your means. You will get sloppy drunk. You will lose your jacket that you overpaid for earlier in the day and then accuse the coat check guys of stealing it. The coat check guys are probably friends with that bartender you’re trying to hook up with. You will crash and burn.

You’ll end up dancing on the bar between two Welsh girls on Holiday. And when all is said and done, even they will run away, leaving you stranded at the very first opportunity.

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Maybe your friend Doug tries to talk his way in with a pretty lady in Park City, and she actually pulls a knife on him. Like a straight up Crocodile Dundee blade. She was not messing around. She deals with assholes like you 100+ days per year. She has heard all of your best lines before, and she wasn’t impressed the first time. She’s not impressed this time, either. Nobody wants to be known as “that one girl who hooks up with tourists”.

Look at the clown in the back.

He bought an entire bottle of Absinthe at a bar in Mont Tremblant, because he was trying to impress a particular bartender. I mean, we drank it all and he continued to make a fool out of himself, so it wasn’t all bad. I think he ended up helping her do dishes at the bar until 4am, before nearly falling asleep in a snowbank on his lonely walk back to our condo.

Don’t be that guy.

Or do. Your friends love telling the story over and over again!

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