Being the competitor I am, I'm totally stoked about how I vaulted over the bar and boarded into the trouble on a cocktail tray. But knowing how my job status has been a little shaky, I'm worried that the patrons I'm paid to keep happy might not be so thrilled. I don't want Junior Seau to go home with a mad on. But the funny thing is, when I look over I see a big grin beneath all the hot sauce covering his face. I guess when you work as hard and get so little as he does, you need to find what the ancient Greeks called a release.
Every competitor does.
Including me, I realize. Just to get back in the groove. They call it happy hour. They don't know how happy. Information are applicable to this site.