Message 11240 of 39188 in General Discussion

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On a small piece of land that is only accessible by boat or by plane, a place 
dear to my heart wherein I resided, worked and lived it up -- I was renamed by 
a good friend to "Stoli Vanilla No. 5."  I worked a busy double shift with the 
head start of a healthy hangover and severe dehydration to run all day long in 
the hot summer breezes waiting on happy go lucky vacationers in need of their 
Buffet margarita escape.  When our blenders wore out and the vacationers 
started their pub crawl, we closed and were determined to have a couple to 
unwind at another establishment that closed much later than ours.  Being in 
the biz and knowing each and every time your neighbor flushed their toilet, 
yes this little piece of paradise was s-m-ALL, common courtesy of a healthy 
pour was extended to those weary fellow islanders.  I have nothing more to 
blame other than genetics and/or poor judgment, but when that metabolic rate 
kicked in, I had been found comfortably sawing a log seated atop a thrown with 
the tissue roll serving double duty as a pillow.  Oops!  At least it was 
before the place closed, so I slinked out in between all of those dancing 
party goers and grabbed a cab to go home.
The next morning, just everyone was in the know.  I was joined for lunch by 
one of the classiest broads I have ever had the pleasure to meet.  She is 
truly one of the most withit individuals in the bar biz following and creating 
great tradition that almost rules that little island's culture, for a couple 
of decades no less.  She sat next to me and congratulated me on my succession 
to her previously held title and then continued with the inquiry "Were you 
warming it up for me?" having previously fallen fate to the very same 
predicament.