I saddled up to the bar at Murphy's…
…cracked open my laptop, and immediately remembered why people don't work from bars at 2 PM on a Tuesday.
The neon lights that made everyone look “good” at midnight were doing no favors for my Macbook screen—or my productivity. It was barely two, but my brain felt like midnight after staring at Notion boards and subscriber metrics all day.
Category Newsletter Creator was crushing it—I'd just finished setting up course boxes in Skool for both our bonus products and upsells, and our waitlist was nearly double last year's Black Friday numbers.
Which only made the tomorrow's newsletter deadline feel more accusatory.
"Rough day at the office or rough day avoiding the office?"
Said the bartender, already reaching for a glass.
He was the platonic ideal of a bartender—salt-and-pepper hair, forearms like he'd been opening bottles since the Carter administration, eyes that caught every detail but judged none of them.
His nameplate read "Mike.”
"Something like that," I said, closing the laptop with perhaps more force than necessary.
Mike set down a dark beer I hadn't ordered.
Perfect head, condensation already beading on the glass.
"When you've been doing this long enough, you learn to read the difference between someone ducking work and someone ducking their own expectations."
"Newsletter's due tomorrow."
I took a polite sip. Guinness. Exactly what I would have asked for back when I was still drinking.
"I've got this whole series about writing scenes with AI, and tomorrow's supposed to be about—"
I gestured at our surroundings with a weak laugh.
"Well, this."
Mike's laugh lines deepened as he grabbed a rag and started wiping down the bar, his movements smooth and practiced. "Twenty-three years behind this bar, and you wouldn't believe the patterns you start to see. Take that woman down there." He nodded toward the far end where someone in a business suit was methodically shredding a cocktail napkin.
"Bad meeting?"
"Nah. She's not looking at her phone enough for work trouble.”
“See how she keeps twisting her ring?”
“That's personal.”
“She'll order two more martinis, make four calls she'll regret tomorrow, then take a cab home and sleep through her morning meetings." He lowered his voice. "Happens every other Tuesday."
I watched him straighten already-straight bottles, recognizing the gesture for what it was—a way to keep his hands busy while maintaining conversation.
Damn, I should be taking notes.
He moved down the bar, and I saw him do exactly what he'd just done with me—the perfect drink choice, the casual stance, the way he created a pocket of calm around the conversation. Within minutes, the napkin-shredding had stopped, and the woman's shoulders had dropped about two inches.
When he returned, he was shaking his head with a slight smile.
"You know what's funny about Tuesdays?
It's when people tell the truth.
Mondays, they're still holding it together. By Wednesday, they've built their defenses back up. But Tuesdays..." He pulled out a fresh glass, started building what looked like an Old Fashioned.
"Tuesdays are when the armor cracks."
"And what about somebody working on deadline?" I asked, watching him pare an orange peel with practiced efficiency.
"Those are my favorite." He slid the Old Fashioned to a man in a rumpled suit who'd just sat down, without the guy having to order.
"The deadline's never the real problem.”
“Like our friend here.”
“He comes in twice a month, always just before his big client presentations. Says he's here to review his notes. Really, he's here because his father was a surgeon who never thought corporate law was a real job."
The man with the Old Fashioned raised his glass slightly in acknowledgment, not even bothering to deny it.
"So what's my real problem?" I asked.
Mike glanced at my laptop, then at my barely-touched Guinness.
"You've got something new that's humming—that product launch you mentioned. But instead of trusting that success, you're in here trying to force the old rhythm to fit. Like someone who keeps ordering the same drink after their taste has changed."
He pulled out his phone, tapped the screen a few times.
"Sometimes you need to pour something new."
My phone buzzed.
Mike texted me a ChatGPT prompt:
"Write a scene where a character who's succeeded at something unexpected returns to their old comfort zone, only to realize they've outgrown it. Set it in a bar. Make the bartender the catalyst, not the counselor."
He winked.
"No charge for the prompt. But maybe next time, order the non-alcoholic IPA you actually wanted instead of expecting the usual."
He slid the beer across the bar with a knowing smile. "This one's on the house."
I opened my laptop again, fired up ChatGPT, and finished my newsletter before the foam settled. Behind me, the gentle clink of glasses and murmur of Tuesday confessions continued their eternal loop.
I'll be back next week. But maybe not at 2 PM.
Ready to write your own bar scene?
Take Mike's prompt and run with it using ChatGPT.
The Bar Scene Prompt (13 Tropes)
Here’s how to use it:
Step 1: Pick Your Scene's Core
First, choose your trope.
The Confession: Protagonist unloads a secret or emotional burden.
Cryptic Wisdom: Bartender offers vague advice that proves meaningful.
Stranger's Eavesdrop: Nearby patron interjects with an unexpected twist.
Old Regular: Bartender and regular joke about protagonist's troubles.
Subtle Setup: Bartender hints at knowing more than they should.
Coincidental Connection: Bartender links to protagonist’s problem or conflict.
Therapist Bartender: Bartender draws out protagonist through simple questions.
"What’ll It Be?" Revelation: Drink order sparks symbolic conversation.
Past Connection: Bartender recognizes protagonist from a shared history.
Lighthearted Break: Bar humor contrasts protagonist's heavy mood.
The Warning: Bartender gives ominous advice about a danger.
Quiet Observation: Bartender listens silently, letting protagonist self-reflect.
Fight Breaks Out: Bar fight interrupts conversation, forcing action.
This will be backbone of your scene.
Step 2: Decide What This Scene Needs to Do
Your scene should accomplish one of these:
Reveal something about your character
Move your plot forward
Build tension
Give your reader a breather
For example, combining "The Confession" with "Revealing character's inner conflict" works well for emotional turning points.
Step 3: Run The Bar Scene Prompt With ChatGPT/Claude
Enter your scene trope, story purpose, genre, and character details into the prompt below. Run it to generate your scene!
Here’s the prompt:
Write a 1,000-word scene set in a bar that takes place in:
[Insert your genre: noir/romance/fantasy/etc.].
Your protagonist [brief character description] enters the bar [optional: time of day, emotional state].
Use the [CHOSEN TROPE] trope to [CHOSEN PURPOSE].
Maintain [GENRE]'s conventions throughout the scene.
Write from [POV preference] perspective, maintaining [your genre's] tone throughout.
In my own bar scene above, Mike (my bartender) used the "What'll It Be?" Revelation trope on me. His insight about my drink choice, from Guinness to non-alcoholic IPA, revealed something deeper about my own story.
I went in thinking I was stuck on a newsletter deadline, but Mike saw what was really happening: I didn't need to force myself to write in bars anymore—I had new, better ways of working.
See how the right bartender can tell your story with a simple drink order?
Now it's your turn. Pick your trope, choose your purpose, and pull up a barstool.
The first round's on me.
— Nicolas Cole
Co-Founder of Ship 30 For 30
Co-Founder of Premium Ghostwriting Academy
Co-Founder of Typeshare
Co-Founder of Write With AI
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