I’m bellied up for a lil post-Thor: Love and Thunder beer at my usual watering hole. Just, y’know, minding my own amidst the flyby conversations that happen to me here.
The perk/curse of being a regular.
I’m not complaining – this time.
But that ancillary type of conversation has its hazards.
For instance, when I walked in, the bartender asked how I was doing.
Me: Oh, y’know. Holding steady.
Him: <looks confused>
Him: <laughs awkwardly>
Me: <purses lips…here we go>
Him: What?!? You are not. <laughs again>
Me: What do you think I said?
Him: You’re not old!
Me: I said, “Holding steady”, not old and steady!
Him: <laughs raucously and minces off>
Hey, at least he didn’t question my sure-footedness.
But with that…we were off to the races. Before I even finished my first beer
…we’d had another incident.
He has a habit of
nattering incessantly verbally processing while he works. He was making a drink for someone and telling himself that something was missing. After his second verbal prompt, I jumped in to help.
Me: What are you on about?
Him: It’s missing something and I can’t. quite. <looks at me> Bitters!
Me: Glad I could help.
Him: <cackles> Nono, it wasn’t…
Me: Just. Don’t.
To be fair, there is a cluster of six bottles of assorted bitters just on the other side of my beer. I’m still taking credit for the alley-oop, though.
Im convinced that this would not happen to anyone else!