Hair Of The Dog

Yesterday I went out to buy my dogwalkers a Christmas gift. It's bonus season, and I hear that's what you do. And I can write this because I know they don't read my blog so it's not like I'll be ruining the surprise anyway.

First you may ask, why do I have two dogwalkers? Simple: One to walk the dog, the other to screw in a lightbulb. Hey-oh! No, actually the guy who walks my dog is also a friend of mine and sometimes he needs help so he has his friend help out every now and again. And anyone who's walked my dog knows that it's kind of like wrangling an out of control super-powered vacuum cleaner. But I digress.

So I know the main dogwalker guy loves Jameson and his friend is a drunk who'd probably huff a dead horse in a glue factory to get high, so two bottles of Jameson seemed about right. So yesterday I walked into my neighborhood liquor store and brought two medium sized bottles of Jame-o to the counter. You know the kind- they're not the small airplane bottles, but just a teensy step down from the big ones.

The woman behind the counter stares at me and goes, "Uh, why don't you just get one big bottle?" Now, she's thinking I'm buying two medium sized bottles because I really need that much whiskey tonight, whereas I'm still of the mindset that it's for my dogwalkers, to which I respond, "Uh... it's a gift and I mean, they're not that good..." Oh and then we had a laugh! Because she thought... and I thought... ha! Ha... I guess you had to be there.

Anyway, happy holidays to my dogwalker and his drunk friend.