Good Luck, Man

It’s around 10:30pm, my fellow bartender says, I’m gonna go smoke a cig. I say, sure, go for it. He leaves, and right after he does so, it hits me. Uh-oh. I can’t leave the bar, there’s a person waiting for some drinks. But it’s time. It’s really, really time.

Have you ever thought about this?  Civilization would not be civilization if we weren’t able to hold it in. I guess we’d all have to walk around wearing diapers. I’d be funny, to be in mid-conversation with someone, they stop, and their face starts turning red.

Finally, my fellow bartender returns. He’s standing in front of the bar. I get his attention. Hey, man!  He turns to me, I mouth the words, I gotta take a shit. He nods, I turn to leave through the back door, I hear a customer call out to me,

Good luck, man!

From my heart to yours,

Clint Curtis. Bartender.

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