I’m behind the bar, busy, busy show, but always time for shenanigans. A buddy of mine’s at the end of the bar, he’s hugging some guy, I approach, and squeeze his buttocks. See it’s awesome, because they get confused, it’s like, hey, this person’s arms are wrapped around me, lovingly, and yet, there’s another squeezing my bottom.
How is that so?
I whisk away, to play it off that it wasn’t me.
From my heart to yours,
Clint Curtis. Bartender.