Another story from the bar

While volun-tending bar last night at our private social club, someone came behind the bar and took the garbage away, in an effort to be helpful, I reached into the can and grabbed the new bag, opened it up and tried to spread it out in the can, but my hands got mystery stuff on them from the bottom of the can and I got grossed out. Honey saw my struggle, and while I was washing my hands (!) he told me I needed to tighten the opening of the bag around the top of the can. (Gasp! that meant I had to touch it again.) In front of all my customers I said "I think if I have to touch it again I'm going to suffer Post Traumatic Stress Disorder." The laughter that resulted from my remark was over-the-top! I love to laugh like that.

Honey came behind the counter and finished up the garbage bag adjustments for me, and then he washed some of the glasses that were stacking up on the counter. He's my champion.