230/365 Tracey
knows I’ll eventually order a Beck’s, and if I don’t, it’s just to prove I don’t always have to (where’s the Magic Hat #9?). Banter with the local bartender’s a pleasure worth savoring, as is the surprise of how many do know my name.
1 Comments:
Sweetie, everyone in every bar from Pawlet to Portland knows your name. And phone number. You keep scrawling it on the walls of their men's rooms.
But you're right, a good bartender is worth her weight in gold, and it's clear you have a keeper in Tracey!
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