I'm halfway through what appears to be a dreadfully slow Friday double. I'd much rather be sitting in front of the fire. Or at least have pants on. I bartend in shorts, because my legs are likely to be covered in water, sour mix, tequila and a variety of other liquors and mixers on any given shift. It's usually plenty warm behind the bar, but it is pretty chilly today. This first real cold snap is killing me. Business wise, and otherwise. I hate the cold. I've lived in New England my entire life, and I still can't handle it.
It's dark and it's cold. I'm exhausted and dicking around with spreadsheets to make our restaurant run more smoothly. And hoping for guests tonight. I'd like to make a couple of dollars.
Though it seems that people are pretty rude tonight though, so maybe I should try to get the fuck out of here.
My view:
Wish me luck! Or come see me. Keep me company, and I'll pour the booze!
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