The Glass is Always Greener...

Our dedicated doorpersons tried to refuse this odd-looking creature entrance to Think-A-Holic Lounge this past Saturday night (see pic). This green-faced person wouldn't tell us who he or she was and couldn't produce any ID and he/she certainly didn't look like any think-a-holic I'd ever seen before. A loud argument ensued at the door and that brought Angus, our big-ass ghost bartender out front, ready to kick butt and knock heads, if necessary.

He immediately recognized the green face and aplogized profusely to the miffed patron who then declared out loud that it had no genders or gender bias and was, in fact, a trans-species of some sort. I was just heading out of the Lounge, myself, at that moment, to go home and blog a little before bed. That's when I heard Angus tell Heckle & Jeckle (the names he recently gave our unnamed doorpersons) that they should "damn well remember" the face of the person they just tried to refuse entrance to because it's the face everyone sees in their mirror whenever they're envious of someone else's achievements.

I had to laugh my ass off out in the parking lot at that remark because I knew damn well that our doorpersons and everyone else, for that matter, would purge that tidy bit of advice from their brains as soon as possible. If they even heard it at all.

Employees-of-the-Month

Think-A-Holic Lounge doesn't discriminate between thinkers and non-thinkers at the door or when hiring staff. Everyone is welcome at this watering hole.

Our doormen (pictured) are often referred to as doorpersons because no one really knows their genders or species or whether they're thinkers or not. They may even be think-a-holics, who knows? Anyway, our "bouncers", as they're often called, are virtually inseparable and have worked together in many countries and on several planets and we're proud to have them as employees at the Lounge.

Unfortunately, the thing about these two jokers is that no one knows when they'll beam up and leave us working the door by ourselves. Angus, our ghost bartender, can hardly tie his own shoelaces, let alone distinguish between thinkers and think-a-holics, or even tell if our patrons have half a brain when they ask for service.

And, as for me, I'm usually too busy scribbling notes for my next book on a cocktail napkin or reaching for a bar towel.