I have seen worse things happen at the Star Wars Bar, yet it is a nice place.
I have seen worse things, and even the most strange, bizarre.
But I never had a customer who happened to stink so much rotten egg.
prepares a Godfather, as he asked.
The peculiarity that every good bartender should have is to get in tune with our customers and to anticipate, prevent the same desires and needs.
My peculiarity is me read minds, as it happened to me several times in recent years behind the bench. Besides, I think the old style instead of the typical clients that are anything but old style.
The man dressed in white, of uncertain age, over the counter, the one who asked me the Godfather, and that stinks of rotten eggs, I read minds.
- not rotten egg. He says.
- E 'sulfur. I looked at him with interim
expression.
- Should I use the spell sulfur ...
Scans words, I look to make sure it is understood every single syllable and the tone of one who has to explain something simple but hidden by mysterious aura.
- ... every time I move from one dimension to another because it is the only one that allows me to do so. I looked at him with interim
expression.
- In a few minutes the smell will disappear. Reassures me.
Another peculiarity is not my understanding. So the Godfather
drinker help me: - Sulphur, different sizes, uncertain age.
still do not understand, but not perceive the smell of rotten eggs.
- not rotten egg! Look, let's try the classic iconography: if you saw me with the eyes and feet goat you would Help?
- Devil? I call intimidated.
- If you're a demon, any, no. If you mean the devil, you.
not going to teach me certain that the Devil is a master of eloquence, so I intorta riproporvi in \u200b\u200bspeeches that I could not even roughly, when at one point a frichettone with sandals, long hair and T-shirt with the symbol Peace asks me a bottle of wine to make a joke to friends. For thirty
refining my money transaction and frichettone reached his friends at the table.
- Two thousand years ago that there was a casino combined with the same joke. He says the white garments.
- How? It would be the chief's son, what? I exclaimed, now totally at the mercy my host.
turns out that where there is the other one, always. Regardless of who decides where to go.
Now wonder who decided to come here and why.
Beelzebub is vague about the reason but said that he resolutely chose him the exit.
Then I made a proposal: he asks me if I want a ride.
- A ride where? I ask warily.
- to see how it is down below.
Before I can ask for further information tells me that, I back up, not that Dante was invented everything and that is a sort of grand tour because they are nice.
agree, although a little reluctant, and all of a sudden, as if sucked into a vortex, I find myself hell.
, more or less like me I imagine, about as Dante described it. Executioner does a hot, shirtless and tattooed people dance to the rhythm of music to a bad high volume, many use doping agents without restraint and the first word that gives me the smell of rum. To avoid mistakes I asked for a cigarette.
Beelzebub makes me see some special hell, like the dj cd with a fantastic facility and a wonderful collection of vinyl records strictly, the operator of the local jam-packed with a case where the damned without pay, next to a local golfer in a beautiful without a ball field. Bartenders
with entire plantations of mint available.
And that is revealed: he asks me point-blank if you are interested in working for him. I doth a list of compliments that end up in the toilet when he confesses that he lost a barman so requested by frichettone for his bar staff.
Decline with caution but in a decisive manner.
He sketches, then brings me back to Star Wars, finishes his Godfather and greets me.
I remain alone on the bench, despite being a topical evening.
I reached my new colleague who asks what that smell of rotten eggs.
- That's me. I say.
- but soon will.
Then a feeling of sadness comes over me: I thought it was hell on earth and that was after everything was better. Instead realize that there is no limit for the worst. And what's
more stink!
I have seen worse things, and even the most strange, bizarre.
But I never had a customer who happened to stink so much rotten egg.
prepares a Godfather, as he asked.
The peculiarity that every good bartender should have is to get in tune with our customers and to anticipate, prevent the same desires and needs.
My peculiarity is me read minds, as it happened to me several times in recent years behind the bench. Besides, I think the old style instead of the typical clients that are anything but old style.
The man dressed in white, of uncertain age, over the counter, the one who asked me the Godfather, and that stinks of rotten eggs, I read minds.
- not rotten egg. He says.
- E 'sulfur. I looked at him with interim
expression.
- Should I use the spell sulfur ...
Scans words, I look to make sure it is understood every single syllable and the tone of one who has to explain something simple but hidden by mysterious aura.
- ... every time I move from one dimension to another because it is the only one that allows me to do so. I looked at him with interim
expression.
- In a few minutes the smell will disappear. Reassures me.
Another peculiarity is not my understanding. So the Godfather
drinker help me: - Sulphur, different sizes, uncertain age.
still do not understand, but not perceive the smell of rotten eggs.
- not rotten egg! Look, let's try the classic iconography: if you saw me with the eyes and feet goat you would Help?
- Devil? I call intimidated.
- If you're a demon, any, no. If you mean the devil, you.
not going to teach me certain that the Devil is a master of eloquence, so I intorta riproporvi in \u200b\u200bspeeches that I could not even roughly, when at one point a frichettone with sandals, long hair and T-shirt with the symbol Peace asks me a bottle of wine to make a joke to friends. For thirty
refining my money transaction and frichettone reached his friends at the table.
- Two thousand years ago that there was a casino combined with the same joke. He says the white garments.
- How? It would be the chief's son, what? I exclaimed, now totally at the mercy my host.
turns out that where there is the other one, always. Regardless of who decides where to go.
Now wonder who decided to come here and why.
Beelzebub is vague about the reason but said that he resolutely chose him the exit.
Then I made a proposal: he asks me if I want a ride.
- A ride where? I ask warily.
- to see how it is down below.
Before I can ask for further information tells me that, I back up, not that Dante was invented everything and that is a sort of grand tour because they are nice.
agree, although a little reluctant, and all of a sudden, as if sucked into a vortex, I find myself hell.
, more or less like me I imagine, about as Dante described it. Executioner does a hot, shirtless and tattooed people dance to the rhythm of music to a bad high volume, many use doping agents without restraint and the first word that gives me the smell of rum. To avoid mistakes I asked for a cigarette.
Beelzebub makes me see some special hell, like the dj cd with a fantastic facility and a wonderful collection of vinyl records strictly, the operator of the local jam-packed with a case where the damned without pay, next to a local golfer in a beautiful without a ball field. Bartenders
with entire plantations of mint available.
And that is revealed: he asks me point-blank if you are interested in working for him. I doth a list of compliments that end up in the toilet when he confesses that he lost a barman so requested by frichettone for his bar staff.
Decline with caution but in a decisive manner.
He sketches, then brings me back to Star Wars, finishes his Godfather and greets me.
I remain alone on the bench, despite being a topical evening.
I reached my new colleague who asks what that smell of rotten eggs.
- That's me. I say.
- but soon will.
Then a feeling of sadness comes over me: I thought it was hell on earth and that was after everything was better. Instead realize that there is no limit for the worst. And what's
more stink!
No comments:
Post a Comment