I lock the bar up for the night, cold outside, it was raining when I was driving to work, now, as they say, a sheet of ice.

I get to my car. Great. Twelve hour shift, now I gotta scrape my windows. And the ice looks thick. I open up the trunk. Wait a second. I rummage around. OH NO!!!!!  WHERE’S MY SCRAPER? Ok, calm down, maybe it’s in the car. I jump in, scour the car. Damn it. No scraper. What am I gonna do? What the hell am I gonna do? IT’S FOUR O’CLOCK IN THE FUCKING MORNING. I look around again. There’s gotta be something I can use to scrape the windows. I look in the back. Let’s see. Markers. A plastic grocery bag. A Buzz Lightyear. Two miniature Etch-A-Sketches. I grab one of them. Could I use this? It’s plastic, like a scraper, seems durable.

I take it outside, take a moment pause for prayer, and then, scrape, scrape, scrape. Works like a charm.

I get home, tell my wife in the morning, she says, DID YOU BREAK THE ETCH-A-SKETCH?!?

From my heart to yours,

Clint Curtis. Bartender.

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