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Diaryland |
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2003-11-23 - 10:17 a.m. Alright, so I might be bartending part-time at my father's VFW. If everything goes the good way, I gotta take a course in which I hypothetically develop a sixth sense of when to tell a person they've had too much to drink. This should be interesting if indeed, I get this dream job. Just imagine, the job is super chill. I'll strike up conversations with some old Veterans of Foreign Wars. you know they got plenty of dirty jokes and rapid-fire wit that only can be honed through years and years of "barspeak." No damn hippies to deal with, just patriotic men who want nothing fancier in life other then watching Sunday football at the bar, drinking Coors Light. Nobody at the bar wants a KAMIKAZEE or even a FAT HO ON A BIKE, which are both easy drinks to make anyways. There's only one beer on tap and if they want to get festive, they get it in a bottle or go for a 7 and 7 or something with cranberry juice for their massive urinary tract infections (That's just me hypothesizing of course). Now I want to study bar books and whatnot and cross my fingers for this jobby-job. *Oh! may my fantasy begin......... 
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