Tonight was another agonizingly slow and torturous shift. I am looking forward to the holiday season when we will be busy enough so I don’t have to actually have conversations with my customers and can just hammer out cocktail orders. In case you have not noticed by now, I have an extremely low tolerance for stupid people…actually just people in general. It’s very ironic I make my living through such a social profession, but this is the hell I have chosen for myself. Anyway, this evening two gentleman came in and sat at my otherwise empty bar. After I served them a couple of very well shaken Grey Goose martinis, one of the guys looks at me and asks if I know any magic? Yeah…I can piss Corona after a big night of drinking. What the fuck is this, Barnum and Bailey? Does my uniform really make me look like a circus monkey? I told them no, but that I had a riddle instead. I set a penny, a nickel, and a quarter on the bar directly in front of the two jackasses. I told them…Franks mom had three kids. I pointed to the penny and said…Penny. I pointed to the nickel and said…Nicholl. Lastly, I pointed to the quarter and asked the name of the third child. It was amusing to watch these idiots try to come up with a name similar to a quarter. So, I repeated the process…Franks mom had three kids… so on and so forth. The blank stares and total silence said it all. These fucking donkeys had no idea what was going on. The answer is of course…Frank. Now tip me and get the fuck out of here with your magical asses.
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