Thoughts at a bar

• I barely sit down before OMW is over buying me a drink. Nice! I give him some advice on finding a plumber to help him with his water heater. I hope he doesn't have a huge mess when he gets home. I also wonder if he remembers the conversation when he leaves.
• Fullhouse! Shake of the day scores me a free drink right off the bat.
• Why is this old man telling me bad dirty jokes? None of them are any good.
• As I looked around, I couldn't help but think there are some real douchebags in this place tonight. Like the dude playing hip hop songs on the jukebox. Or the assclown who is wearing the Guinness shorts but drinking Murphys Stout. I think Iggy would slap him if he was there. That just ain't right.
• Speaking of the jukebox, I believe that Creed should never be played in a bar. Ever. I cringed when they came on. I knew the next 5 minutes would be painful to my ears. "...I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking, who's the douchebag who played this song?"
• Great, old guy now is telling me I should sing karaoke later. That is more painful than listening to Creed
• Why does one of the girls next to me smell like an egg roll with sweet and sour sauce?
• That $10 bill has not moved since I got here. The beer bottles keep coming but the money stays still. That makes me happy.
• Should I go outside and watch some co-workers play volleyball? Nah! I am comfortable here watching the bartender make disgusting shots.
• Want a 6 brothers shot? It is suppose to be all the bottles that have a first name. It consists of Jim Beam, Jameson, Jose Cuervo, Jack Daniels, Yukon Jack, and Maker's Mark. I don't have the heart to tell him Jameson is a last name. John was his first.
• The thought of Cuervo being mixed in with all those whiskys just about makes me cry.
• What am I doing Friday night? I believe I was invited to the Brewers game last week but haven't heard anything else. I don't know if I want to go with some of these people anyways.