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Believe me, back when I lived in Boston I tried tipping well at a few bars near my house so I could bring girls to for that stellar service. I probably tipped around $300 trying to ingratiate myself with the bar staff between two different venues and nothing came of it. No free drinks, no Cheers level greetings when I walked in, nothing.
Maybe i'm an asshole or just ugly? I have no idea. Either way, both bars never had the same bar staff working consistently each time I went in the middle of the week and these were just divy neighborhood bars. I'm expected to drop wads of cash each day for ungrateful staff? F*ck that.
I have no idea how you were dropping cash, but there's a right and a wrong way. The wrong way is to merely tip large without any context or established rapport. Don't get me wrong, they're going to be grateful, but it's probably not going to lead to anything. Even worse is if you simultaneously give off the impression that you're doing it for the sole purpose of getting something. No one likes to feel like a whore. It's like spending on a girl; if all you bring is money, you're just beta bucks.
The right way is to go regularly, build rapport (part of this is identifying who is not likely to appreciate your largesse and avoid), and let the great tips become a part of who you are. You're the great patron, and tipping large is part of who you are. It's being fun first, large tips second. And the tips are a way of showing your appreciation, not because you want something in return. Those are the basic ideas. Like anything else related to social interaction, there's a ton more nuance (and don't forget that "large tip" is relative). Someone else more knowledgeable than me can fill in the blanks.
If you're just looking to buy a door for the night, you can do that too, but it'll cost you. One gentleman gave me $500 over the course of a night in exchange for getting his people in and out of a venue that was at capacity.
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That's pretty excessive for someone to stand behind a counter and whip up beverages that I could whip up myself faster if I went behind the damn counter myself and did it for them.
You might ask, why the fuck do I have to gain his favor? I'm better than him. And maybe you are. But you have to understand something. In North American binge drinking culture, the bar is the altar and the man who tends it is the priest. He might be a total bum off the clock, but for the few hours each night that he whips up elixirs of salvation, he is exalted.
Don't like it? Don't go.