For just pennies a day you could save a bartender from a horrible life of boredom. Everyday in bars, just like the ones in your backyard, bartenders are forced to make vodka sodas - one after another - with little or no break for creativity. Long gone are the days where people ordered Rusty Nails, Harvey Wallbangers and other cocktails with personality. Where the thin layer of frost, amassed on the body of the cocktail shaker, indicated the flavorful, mouth-watering elixir was ready to drink. We have become a culture of ____ and tonic.
Nice try. If only bartenders were actually waiting anxiously for drinkers with challenging orders. But such ain't the case. They're rather stay bored. Trust me.
Here's a more interesting exercise: let's sneak into bars, steal all the vodka and see how long it takes before the bartenders become jibbering idiots.