Fridays and Saturdays, however, usually wind up with me going home general pissed off at humanity and ready to inflict pain onto something. The general IQ of the region drops too much to be good and it’s not always from alcohol consummations. So let me get my practice in for the next week plus now:
No, we don’t sell booze, and I don’t know who sells at 4:17 am. Whoever does, I believe, isn’t legal.
No, we don’t sell rolling papers nor single blunts. And the box you do buy, kindly put the tobacco you take out of them and put it in the garbage before you stuff the damned thing with pot, mmmkay?
No, we don’t sell Choreboy. If you do crack, plan ahead and go to K-mart, alright?
Lotto’s down during the night. Fuck you, I don’t care how much you won.
No, dammit, I’m not letting you in to use the bathroom. I don’t care how bad you got to go; you should’ve unloaded at the bar during last call. And that goes ditto for the ATM. And I already said no booze, goddammit.
Okay, I’m ready to deal with the massive amount of crap I’m going to get. :P