The long brutal election slog is over. Finally, after months of having your intelligence pummeled, you can flip on your TV and get back to watching those lovely holiday commercials. Two months worth. And it’s safe to answer your telephone again- probably just a regular ‘ol bill collector. Familiar, comforting.
And now that it’s past we can focus on some SERIOUS issues. What follows is an article by a writer/contributor I like that I tore from a magazine sometime someplace. And it brings to light a vile travesty. Many of us have encountered this terrible injustice firsthand, but you feel helpless and afraid to speak out. I say –and you’ll likely agree- that our Fearless Leader should throw all resources at eradicating this horrific problem as it tears at the very fiber that makes us the great nation we is. Fiscal cliff my ass- THIS is priority one:
THE MEASURED POUR -by David Granger
I went to a new bar the other night, a bar that was getting a lot of press as a glamorous throwback in a classic location. Walked in, was greeted by women in slinky black dresses, their decolletage decorated with white pearls. The bar seated maybe 20, and there was seating for maybe 60 at cocktail tables arranged around the large room. They had a decent selection of booze. One of the bartenders greeted me professionally, pleasantly. Not bad. The place had some potential. I ordered a brown liquor on the rocks.
And then the jigger came out. The guy (he no longer merited the title “bartender”) measured 2 ounces -precisely- and carefully tipped the liquid into what was, depressingly, to be my glass. This was wrong on so many levels. First, by demanding this, management has unmanned it’s bartender. Second, who the fk wants to drink in a place that is so conspicuously ungenerous? The move tells the consumer that he is there for one reason only: to be fleeced. Third, if a man is ordering not a cocktail but a drink with nothing but ice, he wants a goddamn drink. Give him a drink- give him a nice pour and, if you must, charge him more and all he’ll remember is the pour. Fourth, when you stiff a drinker, he involuntarily does the math- the bar paid $30 for that bottle, which contains 25 ounces; they’re charging me $15 for 2 ounces of it- and comes to the only possible conclusion: Go fk yourself.