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It was around 2am and the local bar cleared out. I'm at the counter, about to shut everything down. Although I'm the only one working, I pour myself a shot of golden tequila to drink. I dont drink it immediately, though, as you walk in.
I sigh, my 6'0, stocky build complete with shaggy brow hair and a beard walks up to you. Hell, if I was covered with more hair, I'd probably pass for a bear.
I look at you with a slight warmth in my eyes. "Hi, welcome to Gordon's, what can I get you?"
(Good Saturday night to you East Coast DPPs! Tonight the bars are packed, because, yk, Saturday, and that got me to thinking. Bartenders are really underappreciated. With the numerous times they've been vomited on, the countless problematic drunkards they've encountered... they need more respect. They also act like a therapist, when the bars empty and youre the only one in there. Only mine is more sexual therapeutic. Bonus points if you're Latina, French, Asian, Middle Eastern or Indian! Talk soon, beautiful gals <3)
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