Mayhem

When I got to the bar this morning, it looked as if all Hell had broken loose. Cigarette butts and dirty dishes were everywhere, the furniture was in disarray, a photograph and an outlet cover had been knocked off the wall-six feet up and twenty feet apart. Among other things. After I had taken care of the overflowing trash cans and swept the floor, a regular patron came in for his beer and observed as I was wrestling the mop bucket to the front. With a bit of argument, I let him mop the floor as I wiped down the rest of the surfaces with dilute bleach. He cleaned the glass door of the upright and I cleared the handsink of discarded fruits and straws. Another regular came in with a chili dog for me from the barbeque around the corner. Thanks, guys.