We've all been through this. You walk up to the bartender and ask for a shot of your favorite liquor. Maybe you got out of work late and are trying to play catchup or maybe there is just no way you can watch whatever you're about to watch sober, but a shot feels like the express lane to a good time. And it usually is.
But then something weird happens. The bartender says, "sorry, we can't serve shots. But I can give you a giant glass of liquor instead."
I think I have most commonly seen it at sporting events and open bars at weddings. The latter of which is easily the most confusing to me. So you're telling me you can't give me a tiny glass of free liquor because it's against the rules, but you can give me a bigger glass with 4x the liquor and few ice cubes - also for free - and that's perfectly fine.
Whatever you say buddy. This proverbial blood is now on your hands. You just unleashed a maniac into the Cupid Shuffle.
And we all know what happens next. You end up slugging down that glass of liquor way faster than you would have ever drank four shots. Next thing you know you're back in line at the bar with three more of your buddies, tipping a tenner to that bartender, and eyeing which of the bridesmaids you're going to attempt to slow dance to KC and JoJo with. Which is basically what happened to my buddy, just at a baseball game and with ice cream.
I'm sure there is some kind of antiquated liquor law behind this but it still makes zero sense. I was trying to drink responsibly and now you just put the DMs of every woman I follow on IG in danger. By the 8th inning I'll be one-eyeing my phone and responding with fire and eggplant emojis to any story I can find on social media. I don't care that all she posted was her sandwich at lunch, I'm diabolically horny off three pint glasses of Jamison because of this wacked out liquor service.
I understand these people are just doing their jobs but I guess what I'm saying is maybe don't do your job then. The establishment will make more profit, there will be far less of a chance of me ruining this wedding, and I won't have to wake up to the dread of reading whatever sauced-up text message scud missiles I launched from my phone the night before.
Sorry grandma, that pic was for someone else. Next time please just serve me a damn shot and save my grandma the horror of opening that text.