Here's a dialogue that took place a couple weeks ago between me and a female bartender (I think, named Courtney or Corey) at a bar in New Haven called El Amigo Felix that, as far as I've been able to tell, on any given weeknight caters only to me and 7 Puerto Rican ecstasy dealers, all of whom are best friends. For future reference: Always remember to tip correctly, or risk looking like an ass.
I walk into the bar and try to ignore some "hostile" staring, and, smiling brazenly ask the bartender for a Dosequis, the cheapest beer available that I could be certain hadn't been brewed on site by the bar's owner and his pack of stray dogs.
Me: Hi. Can I have a Dosequis, please?
Courtney: Five dollars.
Me: (handing her what I'm pretty sure is $6) Here's six.
Corey: (after examining the money) This is four.
Me: Uh.
Was that a Liam Butler story? Tough call.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Haha good one. Could not have told it better myself.
Post a Comment