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Behind the Bar
The chocolate martini is perhaps the most stupid cocktail. I mean, if you
want a milkshake go to Dairy Queen. But some people like them, so I make
them. Two young women came up to me tonight dressed in not much. In my youth
they would have been considered hookers. In my father's youth they would
have been considered naked. And they ordered chocolate martinis. They wanted
them creamy like "this other guy made them once". I explained the recipe we
use and they said to make them any way I wanted. About twenty minutes later
they came back, told me how good the drinks were and asked for two more. As
I gave them the drinks the ladies thanked me and said, "You're our God." And
they left a one dollar tip, about eight percent of the cost of the drinks. Okay cool, I'm God to the alcoholic prosti-tots. So let's say you go into a
bar one night and much to your surprise who should be tending but the
embodiment of your concept of the Divine. Would you tip Him? It's a tricky
question. Some might be inclined to over tip. Try to win some points. Others
might not tip at all, thinking that God doesn't need their money and it
might be insulting. What you wouldn't do is tip Him eight freakin' percent. So, as their God, I condemn them to eternity in Hell. Ooh, that felt good. I
could get used to this God thing.
—Howard Drucker
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