I’m at the bar, guy says, Clint…do you have a coin? I need to make a flip. Ok, I say. I open up the register, get him a quarter, hand it to him, go back to bartending.
I hear the quarter clank on the bar.
Two minutes later, he says, Clint. Here’s the coin. Thanks. I ask, everything go ok? He says, mysteriously, I got an answer.
I hope the question wasn’t, should I go get my AK47, gun down everyone in the bar?
That would suck.
From my heart to yours,
Clint Curtis. Bartender.