bartending
"Bob, I'm a little concerned about something."
"What's that boss?"
"I've gotten word that there's something going on here this weekend."
"Here in the bar?"
"Okay, I should've said 'back home in Chicago', but you know what I mean."
"Nope. Sorry, no clue. The last time you let me out Mouse was still on the puppy food."
I roll my eyes at the skull. "Now come on, you know that's not true." It's been a while, but not that long.
"Fine fine," Bob sighs. "What's going on this weekend?"
"That's just it." I shrug. "I don't know. The rumor is a whole hoarde of crazy fan-people are going to be in town."
"Harry, there are already hoardes of crazy fan-people in Chicago."
Another glare at the skull - I'm getting well-practiced at them. "I know, but this group is congregating in a single location for three days. Kind of like SplatterCon!!!..." Yes, the exclamation points are necessary. "...but not for horror films."
"Then what for?"
All of this stuff goes over Bob's head sometimes, I think. "See, that's what I don't know. It could be a crowd of cheese fans or pet rock enthusiats. How are we to know."
Bob rolls his orange eyelights. "Harry, please. Pet rock enthusiasts have better things to do with their time."
"Yes, all those tricks you can teach a rock." I rub a hand over the back of my neck. "Really, Bob, is this something I should be concerned about?"
"I don't think so. But if you give me, say, a seventy-two hour leave, I could go check it out for you?"
I frown at the skull. "Nice try, Bob."
I'll figure something out. In the meantime:
Specials
Chicago Fizz
Chicago Cocktail
"What'll ya have?"
"What's that boss?"
"I've gotten word that there's something going on here this weekend."
"Here in the bar?"
"Okay, I should've said 'back home in Chicago', but you know what I mean."
"Nope. Sorry, no clue. The last time you let me out Mouse was still on the puppy food."
I roll my eyes at the skull. "Now come on, you know that's not true." It's been a while, but not that long.
"Fine fine," Bob sighs. "What's going on this weekend?"
"That's just it." I shrug. "I don't know. The rumor is a whole hoarde of crazy fan-people are going to be in town."
"Harry, there are already hoardes of crazy fan-people in Chicago."
Another glare at the skull - I'm getting well-practiced at them. "I know, but this group is congregating in a single location for three days. Kind of like SplatterCon!!!..." Yes, the exclamation points are necessary. "...but not for horror films."
"Then what for?"
All of this stuff goes over Bob's head sometimes, I think. "See, that's what I don't know. It could be a crowd of cheese fans or pet rock enthusiats. How are we to know."
Bob rolls his orange eyelights. "Harry, please. Pet rock enthusiasts have better things to do with their time."
"Yes, all those tricks you can teach a rock." I rub a hand over the back of my neck. "Really, Bob, is this something I should be concerned about?"
"I don't think so. But if you give me, say, a seventy-two hour leave, I could go check it out for you?"
I frown at the skull. "Nice try, Bob."
I'll figure something out. In the meantime:
Specials
Chicago Fizz
Chicago Cocktail
"What'll ya have?"