I watched alcohol exchange hands between employees in the restaurant today. No, there were no shot glasses involved. Nobody was drinking out of a bottle. Nobody was drinking it period. It all began when a coworker informed us that he had a bottle of alcohol in his backpack. “You carry alcohol around with you in your backpack?” a driver asked. “Sounds like you’ve got a problem, buddy.” The driver ended on a chuckle. “I don’t have a problem,” the coworker said. He didn’t laugh. He explained that he was selling it. He got it out. He held it up. Vana White, all the way. “This is the $17 bottle of the stuff. I’m selling it for $3.” Or maybe it was $2? I don’t remember. I remember thinking, “Sounds stolen.” I left right after that with a delivery in hand. “But RI,” you may ask, “I thought you said that you saw it exchange hands?” I did. Right after that delivery, I walked into the back of the restaurant just as the coworker handed the bottle to another coworker. I felt icky. I love ...
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