October 29th, 2010 
judowolf 
I was daydreaming about my bartender days when the memory of the Limoncello man came racing forth.
Captain Bob discovered Limoncello at a house party; it became his after dinner beverage, affects him quicker than wine, and soon he is hovering over the abyss. He dines at the club, comes to the bar, and asks for a nightcap. I pour two ounces of Limoncello in a snifter, place it in front of him, and tell him, only one.
He finishes the first one, asks for a second, and promises it will be his last. I hesitant, but Bob assures me, he will be fine, and then will go home. I pour the drink, place it on the bar, turn, and hear glass breaking behind me. Turning back, Bob is holding parts of the shattered snifter in his hand. The look on his face is similar to a child caught with their hand in a cookie jar. I inspect Captain Bob’s palms for injury, see a tiny cut not worthy of a Band-Aid, and point my finger toward the door. Captain Bob gets off the stool, walks out, and does not utter a word.
The story is now legendary about how Captain Bob crushed a snifter in his hand and was unscathed. When Captain Bob aka Limoncello man sits at the bar, the crowds surround him t0 listen to his tale. I smile in agreement and tell them I sent Bob home, saving him from himself.
Posted in 
