Last Call for Think-A-Hol

The other night I was in the Lounge around last call when I spotted this smug little prick (see picture) talking to the Think-A-Holic Lounge bartender, who is the ghost of a big-ass Scot named Angus. I recognized the little guy who was busting the bartender’s chops because he was bragging about something I’d suspected all along. The little turd was telling Angus that he was the alien presence on Earth responsible for making sure that I had no readers.

He clowned around a lot while he yakked it up — buttering up ol’ Angus by telling him that he was the most frightening ghost he had ever seen and that he had a flair for making Manhattans that tasted more sophisticated than the Stork Club’s (as if the little goober had ever been in that elitist New York watering hole) and typical new customer crap — but I got the gist of what he was saying.

He said he put suggestions into people’s heads just when they were about to click on the ADD TO CART button at Lulu.com, usually making them think the phone was ringing or that they had to pee right now or else they’d have an accident. The little green bugger even went so far as to convince prospective buyers that the end of the world was happening at that very moment and that they should hide under their desks immediately. Then, while they were answering a phone that wasn’t ringing or trying to pee when they didn’t really have to or hiding under their computer desks like terrified snails, they would lose their Internet connections and then either get mad at me or forget about me altogether.

I was getting really peeved, sitting there nursing my draft and listening to all this crap, and I finally asked Angus to throw the little prick out. But all Angus did was smile like the big goof he really is and say, "Last Call! Last call for think-a-hol!"