Alcohol

My co-worker and I are thrilled today because my boss's husband had a doctor's appointment so she left right after my shift started. Too bad there’s no bar, or I'd be serving up mojitos right now. In the past, customers have asked me why we don't have a bar, and I think that’s a valid question. I'm pretty sure alcohol would turn my boss into a nicer person, as well as making her easier to be around (especially if everyone else was drinking as well). However, it's always possible she'd be one of those violent drunks--the kind where they come up and start talking to you but they're slurring everything they say and then out of nowhere they start punching you on the face and arms for no apparent reason, like they're your stepdad or something. But of course, if she ever did that to me she’d get laid out like quality flooring.
And it would be doubtlessly beautiful, like something out of a Splenda commercial. You know, where the screen is sprayed in the corners with what looks like liquid gold, and there's soft, pretty music playing in the background, and children are dancing and birds are chirping and then suddenly there I would be, opening up a non-dented can of Miracle Whup on Jackie. And then when it was over a butterfly would land in my hand and gently open and close its wings, as if to say, "Splenda is made from sugar so it tastes like sugar. Please continue to defeat the undead bosses of the world using your superior karate skills." Okay, I just re-read that and it seriously sounds like I've been drinking. Time for a cookie break.