Ode To the Sweet Man at the Liquor Store

You, my friend, as you know, made my day. And week. Quite possibly, my month.

Winter is not kind. All I've wanted to do this week is eat and sleep. Eat and sleep. Go back to bed to sleep. Eat some more. I think I'm really a bear stuck in a person's body. I would give anything to hibernate. As a result of this sleeping and eating, I'm already getting fluffy. Putting on my jeans this morning was a harsh reminder of this fact. Like, really depressing. I like to eat mushrooms, I don't like to look like them.

I decide to treat myself to a martini so I visit your store. You greet me in such a friendly way. Which is nice, because liquor stores can feel really skeezy. I prefer to be treated like a productive and functioning alcoholic, not a homeless boozer.

While ringing me up, you said you would flatter me by checking my ID. I always love when that happens, but I didn't expect your reaction, "DAMN, you're doing good baby!!" Apologizing for the "baby" wasn't necessary, it added the extra oomph that I appreciated. Really, someone buy this man a drink!

Thank you for giving me bragging rights and making me forget about my winter marshmallow belly for a few minutes.

You remarked at the end that "this is going to get around." My friend, you have no idea.
Cheers!!