Ampersand

I’m at the Mews. Behind the bar. Servin drinks. Like I do. I look over at the door and see a cute blond talkin to the door guy. All-right. Now we’re talkin. My boy might get some. If he plays his cards correct.

10 minutes later, I’m outta ice, but it’s too busy to leave the bar unattended. I grab two empty buckets, and take em to the door. Hey man, I say, I don’t wanna cockblock or anything, but could you grab some ice for me? She smiles, he says, no prob.

The night wears on.  The door guy comes behind the bar. Here’s your hundred you gave me for change. I say, thanks. Hey man, you gonna close the deal? You gonna get the digits? He says, I’m workin on it.

End of night, I’m cleanin the bar, blond chick approaches me, have you seen the door guy? I don’t know, I say, he may be outside. She exits.

About 20 minutes later, the door guy comes back, to say his goodbyes. I ask him, well…you got the digits, right?  He says, no, I didn’t. WHAT?!?!  You didn’t get em?  She was all into you. She was comin up to the bar, askin where you were. Yeah, I saw her outside. She showed me her ass. We were talkin about ampersand and she was all flabbergasted that I knew that word. She lifts up her skirt, and shows me a tattoo of her ampersand.

Ok…so this chick shows you her ass, while under the guise of showing you a tattoo, and you didn’t get her number why?

Well. She’s a stewardess. She doesn’t live in town.

Mind.

Blown.

From my heart to yours,

Clint Curtis. Bartender.

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