I’m behind the bar with my fellow bartender, rocking martinis. Can I get 17 Something Fruity’s? Oh sure, give me 13 minutes, I’ll have that for ya.
I’m fixing a couple, my fellow bartender is helping a customer. The guy he’s helping says, I want a dirty martini, with TOO MANY olives. Bartender says, all right. Guy says, I mean, I want the martini glass brimming with olives. TOO many olives. Fellow bartender says, ok.
I stop what I’m doing right there. I hustle to the back room, grab two large, unopened containers of green olives. I run out, stand on the top step, raise both hands up into the air, with one container in each hand, and say, with a booming voice, as if I was Charlton Heston on top of the mound with the stones of the Ten Commandments,
TOO MANY OLIVES? HERE’S YOUR FUCKING TOO MANY OLIVES!!!!
The bar ends all conversations, turns to look at me, and I
Slam the olives down on the bar.
My fellow bartender says, that was some Daniel Day Lewis from There Will Be Blood shit.
I say, hey. He asked for too many olives!
And then I resume making my 560th martini.