Just Keep Serving

Vodka and soda with lime. Or lemon if you're out. Well, he was out. Scotty had been out for the last two hours and no matter how many times he reiterated that information, he was met with the same stunned stare. A full three second stutter of disbelief, a la Foghorn Leghorn. Some of them actually repeated the question. Multiple times. You're out of lime? You're out of lime. It's closing in on two am and this 40th birthday bash in the tony Forest Hill home has been in full swing since 7:30. The rich, white, beautiful folk are well into their cups. Five magnums of Ketel One, Grey Goose , 4 bottles of Patron and countless flats of Stella down, they're moving into wine now as all the glassware is dirty. Serving Rioja and Cab Sauv and a mystery Austrian white in champagne flutes and margarita glasses while Chef and his sous frantically clean  rentals in the kitchen. This is the gig that never ends. It's a contest to see who can drink the most and still stay charming. Or lucid. Scotty lost his hearing around 8:25 when the numbers exploded: the out of towners had arrived. A 15 foot square dining room, 80 guests filter in and out at top volume. Well tended, loud and insistent, in search of the ever elusive lime.

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