A Beer and a Handjob.

To truly appreciate the events that unfolded (or unzipped, as you would have it) this evening, I will give you a little history on the bar. Built in the late 1800's, breif stint as a whore house. Ah, the irony. I would have rather eaten iron, than see what I had to tonight.

Seriously, on the list of things I've had to deal with, and wasn't trained for, this tops it.

First, I must explain the "subjects". We'll call the female "Tina", better yet, we'll call her "Crazy Tina". She's about 5'1", double D's (that are always on display, of course) CRAZY 80's hair, and about 180-190 lbs. Oh! And, I'm pretty sure when she looks in the mirror, she sees a Sports Illustrated swimsuit model. (Secretly, I want this mirror). Also, she's crazy, or bi-polar, or a ridiculous alcoholic, or a drug addict, or any random combination of all.

The male, we'll call him "Plumber Steve", who is DEFINATELY the town drunk, or a close second. Thankfully, doesn't frequent my bar that often. Every time I see him we have the same conversation, "I never get a good drink in this bar, but you haven't served me one yet." He never remembers, I have served him before, and I'm the one that cut him off the last time. "WHO'S YOUR PLUMBER?" It hasn't changed since I answered this question last week, buttnuts.

It's a typical, slow, Tuesday night, maybe 12 people in the bar. I'm conversing with a few of the guests when I notice "Crazy Tina" not only has on her "supermodel face", but "supermodel orgasm face". My gaze (unfortunately) moves down her arm. SHIT SHIT SHIT! Maybe I really don't see this. So I walk out from behind the bar, walk down the row of barstools, to the crazies. SHIT SHIT SHIT! She's jacking him off, F@CK!

SHIT SHIT SHIT!

I run to the back, all the while trying not to vomit.

SHIT SHIT SHIT!

Somehow I compose myself, cash her out, tell them that isn't appropriate in a bar, and ask them to leave.

It's Tuesday. What else is in store for me this week?

SHIT