Get your damn hands up...where's my witness. I'll be closing again tonight, and somewhere along the way that tattoo morphed into a straight-up brand, cause I don't see it leaving until I ship out of Holland.
Also, I'll be free-pouring tomorrow...trying to get myself fired in as many ways as possible.
I don't have much to say, except I think I had the worst waitress in the history of man last night. The only excuse I have for her is everytime we ordered something...she had to walk to a liquor store to buy the ingredients, walk back, then buy a bartenders guide, look up how to make it, call someone from Europe, and have them deliver it to our table. If that's what happened then I totally understand, but anything that steers from that agenda even a little bit is total bullshit.
One of these days I'm going to learn how to make Carino's pasta salad. Until then, I guess I'll have to work there.
Nice comeback...
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actually, i think the person delivering it was swimming. which reminds me, today i asked my family if anyone had ever swam across the atlantic and my brother shuddered and said, "i hope not, there's all kinds of creepy creatures in there"
You were out there on the road for several weeks it shows and when you scan the radio I hope this song will guide you home.
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