It’s that time of week when we answer the questions you’re too drunk or shy to ask…This question comes from Tara:I met you at a recent press event that I attended with a friend. I’m in publishing and we relish free food, but he always contends these events aren’t what I think. I didn’t know what to make of it. There was plenty of food and wine, but it felt like a condo sales pitch. Do you have to go to these often? What exactly is achieved by such an event?Press events, more often than not, spitball the food and drink media in the city to get us to write about a certain product, restaurant, or event. Press events can be weird when everyone is invited because we all get the same experience at the same time. We all show up, cocktails are served, a slick press packet awaits, the owner/chef/bartender shares a story, and we all sit down to (or attack) the same food. There’s no angle when you all get fed the same story, but it’s fair to invite everyone. That’s why some writers go coocoo for cocoa puffs to break a restaurant opening or some other such banal, bourgeois scoop like it’s a crack in the Green River case. The trick is to figure out what little nugget of the evening you can latch on to that might not get overplayed. These events, however, are far easier to sanction as on the up-and-up as opposed to inviting specific writers to dine for free — a patented no-no.I think this job requires a natural moral compass to work alongside the Code of Ethics (and yeah, I think bloggers should print out and read the copy thrice). Free stuff is the perk of this gig, same as music writers get free CDs, but there’s a limit. If you go too far in music it’s called payola, or “pay to play,” and it’s illegal. Without any explicit “I’ll give you this if you give me that,” taking too much free shit necessarily obligates you to the provider. To me, as with most things in this world, it’s all common freaking sense if your mamma raised you right. Going to a press event doesn’t obligate you to write about the topic of said event, but why would you go to an event if you weren’t going to write about some aspect of it? Going to all events might make sense if someone were trying to become a something-about-town, but it’s also a little strange.Truth is, I have plenty of friends of which I don’t see enough, friends who are very, very fun. Why would I want to spend all of my scant free time around a bunch of colleagues and strangers? Free food and drink wore off on me about a decade ago; it’s all work now. I’d also rather experience a wine, spirit, or restaurant in a less controlled environment, not exactly following the strict dictum of a food critic but a variation. Anybody can shine up a turd for one night only, and I’d rather get an experience closer to that of a customer. Just because a restaurant can kiss ass to a room full of writers and social media peeps doesn’t mean it gives good service. Maybe I just worked the other side for so long and had to kiss too much critic and celebrity ass that I’m too much of a skeptic. ***To all the bloggers and food writers that attended a certain Four Seasons event about a week ago, a few of you should pick up a copy of Emily Post. A dear friend who helped work the event, an over-10-year veteran of this business and all-around class act, was taken aback by the way some of you treated the help. Snapping for bigger pours? General bitchiness? Asking what else was available? Your asses were getting feted on tons of free booze and food. You all should have been nothing but smiles and thank yous. You never know who’s watching you… And I’ve got names. (P.S., she makes more money than all of you.)Got a question for the bartender? Email me at msavarino@seattleweekly.com.