I Think I Left My Card Here

Front door opens, end of the night, guy/girl comes in, walks up to the bar. Girl says, I think I left my card here earlier. I look where the cards go. I don’t even need to get her name. None there. I say, nope. Sorry. None here. She says, are you sure you don’t have it?  I think for a second, then say,

You came in around 10. Sat over there end of the bar. You were with four other friends. You ordered a Sunny Side Up, and your guy friend ordered a Vanilla Cafe. I remember he asked, what’s the coffee one?  And I said, I think you’re talking about the Vanilla Cafe. I made them, gave them to you, he goes to pay, then you say, no, I got it. You hand me a card. I say, you want me to run it, or keep it open?  You said, run it. I run it, put it down in front of you. I walk away for a bit, then come back where you are, and I notice your guy friend is signing it for you. I go back to doing what I do, about a half hour later, he ordered another Vanilla Cafe, and you said you were good. He paid cash for that one, gave me a 10 dollar bill, and generously gave me a three dollar tip. 

The girl turns to the guy, says, do you have it?  He gets out his wallet, walks away from the bar, I go help another customer. About a minute later, I hear the couple laughing. I call out, YOU GOOD?  The guy gives me a thumbs-up, has a smile on his face that says, I’m the dumbass. 

You know what that was, my friends?  That’s three YEARS of writing bar stories, remembering small little details, and good, clean sober bartending. 


Life is good. 

-Clint Curtis

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