This guy walked into happy hour yesterday already wasted.
He plopped his old-ass brief case on the bar and ordered a pitcher of beer.
Josh asked him for $6 to pay for the libation.
He hemmed and hawed before realizing his wallet was in the brief case.
He tried to open it but couldn't. It was turning into quite a scene.
Finally he got on his phone and called someone.
I couldn't hear what he was saying until he got heated,
"GIVE ME THE MUTHA FUCKIN' CODE TO THE BRIEF CASE."
He repeated this several times - bugging the eff out of we regulars.
Exasperated he ended the call with his loudest (and lamest) demand,
"WELL, THEN YOU NEED TO SEND A LOCKSMITH DOWN HERE NOW!"
Then he shouted, "YOU NEED TO OPEN THIS BITCH UP."
Um, yea... that's what she said.