It may have helped that I had been scribbling work-related stuff at my end of the bar, occasionally looking up to marvel at the amount of physical exercise that goes into mixing cocktails, and at the supply of cocktail-related fruit and herbs that gave that end of the bar the appearance of a miniature greengrocery. Perhaps the mixologist had mistaken me for a bar reviewer, or a beer-blogger. Either that, or it was my irresistible good looks.
Then this turned up in McGravitas' FaceBukkake Feed: an interview with the mixologist in question. We knew her before she was famous!