Two-dollar Bud draft at the pizza place; plus they got
Pepperidge Farm Goldfish crackers in baskets on the bar, right out of a bulk
container of Goldfish that looks and pours like a giant milk carton. All the
liquor behind the bar is economy size. R asked, “If you were a small person,
how would you be able to pour those?” These are hefty jugs. “I’ve never seen
bottles that big in a bar before.” The man does a hefty pour for the yapping
dads-on-the-loose in here. He seems like he’s not
getting around to us, he’s ignoring us, but he isn’t. He’s there right when we
need him, without making a big deal about it, like a good father. He discounts our drinks for no reason.
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