Catch My Drift

“You see Obama yesterday?”

“No. Saw Air Force One sitting on the tarmac. That’s as close as I got. Was he in for a beer and a shot of barkeep wisdom.”

“No. Missed opportunity. For him.”

“Truly. What would you have said?”

“Dunno. I’d have brought him a wine—looks like a wine guy to me. As I slid it over I’d have grabbed his wrist.”

“After the Secret Service snapped your neck like a #2 pencil what would you have done?”

“I just would have wanted to take his pulse. Nothing crass like ‘ask Michele for your balls back’ or anything like that.”

“Implication being he’s some sort of robot? Does this go back to the whole teleprompter thing?”

“Fuck no. Ellen used one at the Academy Awards. The President shouldn’t?”

“Was that an Ellen reference?”

“Take the whole drone thing. It’s too easy. Some asshat just sitting somewhere— in some bunker some place— dropping bombs on things like it’s fucking Nintendo.”

“You’d rather have soldiers deployed everywhere trying to do the same? And when they get shot and killed, as they often will, what will you say— or rather what will your teleprompter have you say?”

“If it’s not worth getting up close. If it’s not worth going toe-to-toe and taking that risk, maybe we shouldn’t do it. Would you like Mexicans doing drone strikes in East LA?”

“He killed Osama Ballwashin up close and personal.”

“And that’s why the wine was on me. But he’s too clinical. He’s smart. Harvard Law. I get it. But give some ‘big stick.’ I’m all set with the ‘walk softly.’”

“I hear you.”

“It’s like a lot people that come in here. Not just kids either— although they’re the worst. They come into a bar and they stare at their phones the whole time. What the fuck’s the point of going to a bar to look at your phone?”

“They’re missing your charm entirely.”

“They’re missing the fact that it’s a place to be social. Not social media. Social. If you come in alone, I’ll chat you up. If you come with friends, then talk to them. It’s not that fucking complicated. Do I need to hand instructions out with the menu?”

“You have a menu?”

“I’ll make one. Drones, wine, suds, hooch— asterisk. ‘Please don’t act like a hermit fucknut. The management.’”

“Imagine the Instagram pickup.”

“I’m serious. Some people want their place to be a hotspot. I want to shield my bar from the web.”

“You’ll lose tons of NSA business.”

“There are so many cool things that technology brings. Access to everything. But while our head’s stuck in it we don’t notice we’ve drifted six inches apart from everyone. It’s like an ice flow breaking apart slowly.”

“I like the birthday notes I get on Facebook.”

“I like them too. Hard to say anything about the birthday notes on Facebook. It’s the other 364 days I could do without.”

“I wish I could ‘like’ that comment.”

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