Easily Bought

I was sitting at home doing what I usually do when I’m at home (calculus for fun) when I received a text message from the bartender working happy hour:

Bartender: Happy hour, [Bar], come!

Not liking to be ordered around, I respond:

NDC: What? I don’t even get a please? You’re just going to tell me what to do?

God, I’m so nice. She comes back with:

Bartender: Yes! Creepy red head is here. [”Creepy red head” is a, you guessed it, creepy red head who followed the bartender around one night and tried to convince her to meet him in the corner; classy guy – Ed.]

Being the class act that I am and noticing that I had a friend in need I naturally replied:

NDC: Maybe I should just let you two hang out. I wouldn’t want to interrupt a budding romance.

I’m a good friend. But then she pulled the trump card:

Bartender: Shut the fuck up and get here please. First two drinks on me if you’re here in thirty minutes or less.

Sixteen minutes later I strolled into the bar. I will do anything for Bourbon.