Another slow day at the bar---and by slow, I mean I had time to organize my Scotches by region. Perfect day, and I managed to get in a solid two hours on the slopes before heading in to work. I have the next two days off before heading back to Cleveland for a few days. The break will be nice--familiarity has certainly been breeding contempt, and it will be full steam ahead when I get back.

It's quite amusing how people's perception of drinks often has precious little to do with flavor. I made a bunch of pomegranate mojitos tonight without realizing that our pom juice had gone rancid. (As in, tasted like fermented yak urine) Not only did no one complain, but people actually complimented the, I can only imagine, undrinkable drink. And after making a mai tai for an Austrian guy he practically wanted to hug me.

Some amusing moments from the past two days:

-Yesterday I waited on a married couple who were in business together as divorce lawyers, and who wouldn't stop talking about their dog, Mr. Snuggles. That's right, his name is Mr. Snuggles, and I'm sure he is a delicate flower.

-A forty five year old man who, while his wife was in the bathroom, told me he thought his wife wanted him to have another apple martini because she was "feeling frisky and wanted to have her way" with him. Believe me, not a pretty mental image

-The 35-year old blond wearing a low cut V-neck to show off her brand new implants, who kept flirting with me in a (successful) effort to piss off her boyfriend.

-The two guys who showed up for last call, one of whom was in awe that we carried Green Chartreuse and couldn't stop talking about the Benedictine monks who invented it, the other of whom, when informed that any smart, pretty woman within 100 miles has a boyfriend expressed his indignation that a fellow as "good looking" as myself would have any issues in said department. Why is it only the old men who think this??

Nearly the entire staff went to "White Trash Wednesday" at the local dive; mercifully my late hours gives me an excellent excuse to avoid what, I have no doubt, must have been a rockin' good time.