"If your bartender is driving a Jaguar and the owner is driving a Hyundai, you know something's wrong," he said.

As the sun sets, bartending school begins. This is the try-out class, for prospective students to see if they want to plunk down $350 for the 35-hour course.

Most of the students already work in restaurants but they say they want to get behind the bar, where they will earn more money. There's also an older couple, Herb and Fran Byrne. Herb, a retired real estate developer, wants to be able to substitute occasionally for his friends, many of whom bartend professionally, and Joan came along for the ride. They don't need bartending jobs. He tells me they live in California and Hyannisport, but spend every February in Florida. At the end of the night, Herb and three others join the course. Then he drives off in a white Jaguar.

Ballet of bartending

During the next three hours, we learn how and when to garnish drinks; the ingredients in sour mix (egg whites, sugar, and lemon), grenadine (pomegranate), champagne (the real stuff is aged for years in caves, and the rest has sugar added to create carbonation) and Angostura Bitters (the only 90-proof product sold in grocery stores even on Sunday)

We learn the ballet of bartending, a critical skill since you will be at center stage once behind the bar. You don't want to be spilling drinks and or leaving smudgy finger prints on glasses.

"Pouring a drink is six motions," Green tells the humbled crowd, as he grabs the mixer with his right hand and the alcohol with his left. You pour the hooch with your "power hand," he said.

So if you're left handed, that's where the booze bottle should be.

He pours the sour and spirit at once. The bottle openings are calibrated so that the mixer comes out twice as fast as the booze. This creates a two to one mix, which is right for most, single-spirited drinks served in a high ball glass.

"Pouring is very important, you need to look coordinated and comfortable," he said.

Oh, don't forget the scoop of ice. Bar ice is so small, he said, it squeezes into every angle of the glass, leaving room for little else. Fill each glass with ice, he said.

As crucial as pouring choreography, is body language and personality.

"Be aware of your customers, you want this to be fun," he said.

Then Green plunks his hands onto the bar, leaning forward so he's directly in front of a young, female student. "How ya' doing today?" he says, jauntily.

This is the way to address your customers, make them feel at ease and appreciated. A bad way would be to stand inches from the bar, hands frozen at your side or clasped in front, like a soldier or a nun.

Eventually we come down to the real meat of the course. Behind the bar, we practice a sobering list of drinks with the food colored "alcohol," mixes and the soda gun. Green said the students stay behind the bar, playing bartender, for 85 percent of his course.

The soda gun is a flexible-necked device that quirts out cola, Tab, club soda, water, and tonic at the touch of a button. I remember this because Green warned us that "Q" on the squirt bottle stands for "quinine" or tonic. The "T" is actually "Tab," a diet soda.

When I took my turn behind the bar, I made a round of drinks. A Tequila Sunrise, Cuba Libre, a Makers Mark on the rocks.

Feeling unexpectedly nervous - as if I've never made a drink before! - I then begin to clean up. Green said club soda (water and air combined) is an excellent cleaning product. And I want to look professional, so I press the "C" button on the soda gun. A burst of brown cola shoots from the gun, all over the glasses, all over the shiny bottles, the mixers and my skirt.

Imagine trying to look suave on one's first day, wearing a skirt polka-dotted by brown stains. You realize that's what this class is all about.