Honestly, I don't work there

Sure as shoot'n as soon as I rested my chin on my desk at my second job, because the weight of my world is too much for me, I hear someone coming up the stairs.


Sure as shoot'n I've misspelled idyll at some point in my life.


I only notice when she's on my side of the bar but I'm always surprised at how small she is.


Tourists came in like tourists do but these folks were older than the tourists that usually stroll in. They were mid-seventies, I guess.

"Are you some sort of manager?" the husband asked me. He was a seat down from me and he posed his question when the guy to my left went down the stairs to use the bathroom.

I looked around to see if the bartender had heard his question, she had. "Yeah, sort of but I'm a horrible drunk so I stay on this side of the bar."

"This guy likes having you around on this side, doesn't he?" the guy asked pointing to the empty seat.

"Yeah, because if I were on that side, I would have to cut him off."