Happy New Year, Indeed.

I worked a full and insanely busy day at the Local Liquor Store, picked up the b.h., brought him home, and rested for about an hour and a half before heading out to bartend. The night was fairly easy, the music more fun and much more tolerable than I expected (sometimes cover songs are truly a blessing), and overall I had a good time. At the end of the night, I waited on my second favorite local bass player. He was wearing a spectacularly gaudy jean jacket, adorned on the back with two skulls in American Indian headdresses. They had rhinestones for eyes. The feathers were individually embroidered. It was fantastic. I was jealous. And of course, without a camera for the first time in almost forever.
Anyway, he and his lady friend were very nice and chatted with the other bartender and me, and we all drank a howdy to ought nine and our incoming President. Though I missed the b.h. and my boys, I cannot remember feeling better for the start of a new year in a very long time.
Today's Customer Of The Day was an old lady who sat in her car in the parking lot and layed on the horn for a full minute until my co-worker Rob finally noticed. He looked out the window, rolled his eyes and sighed, and asked me to please go take the woman's order.

"I'm sorry- WHAT?"
"I know, I know - Just go out and see what she wants."

I did. She opened her door just enough to let the words escape.
"I want five little bottles of vodka."
"What kind of Vodka?"
"Boston?"

I went back in. I got a half pint and an airplane bottle of Mr. B0ston vodka and went back out to the car. Just to be clear, this woman had no handicapped sticker, was in no visible way impaired, and was smoking a fucking cigarette while she waited for me to bring her fucking liquor to her. She was, in short, not that old. Were she elderly, or handicapped, or even - gods forbid - polite, I would not have been so put out.

She pointed at the smaller bottle and handed me twenty dollars. I went back in, Rob rang it up, and I returned to the parking lot and handed her the bag. She took it without looking at me, peered into the bag, and muttered a thanks before closing the car door- again, without looking at me. (Is this a Baptist thing? Anyone?)

When i went back inside, I asked Rob how the fuck all that had started.

"I don't know. Sam set a precedent."

Sam is the owner, so it's not like I'm going to argue. But really.