The day started out so good. He got up early, took Pilsner for a good sunrise walk, then was able to get in some good reels in the river before heading to the bar. But the universe had better ideas on how the day was going to go.

He got the bar at 10:30, hoping it would be already opened by his bar tender... Yeah, he should have never trusted him. He was late, again... and short-staffed. Today was the day that everyone decided that they had better plans than to come into work. So Peter was left with just him and his cook. The only bright side was that the lunch rush was staring to die down. He hoping that he would have a spare moment to make the beef stew for the dinner.

“Sit anywhere,” Peter called from under the bar when he heard the door’s bell jingle as it opened. “The special is yesterday’s pot roast in a sandwich...” He popped up from under the bar with two bottles of Tito’s vodka in his hands. “Oh, sup Cordi,” a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.