Learning to Shrug: One Man's Misadventures in Apathy

" Dude you bartenders are the greatest. No, hey... I really mean that. Seriously. I love you. And you're the best one. I MEAN THAT. HEY... Seriously. No. Seriously." - Drunk People -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Let me guess, you had one hell of a week. You've just spent several hours bathing, dressing, doing your hair, hydrating, and pre-funking, and now you're in the mood to   truly defile both your liver and your good standing in the community. It's ( insert day of the week here ) night, and you've simply no desire to remain even remotely sober for a single second longer. Your pain is a familiar one to me. I can help you. I was just like you, once. Roughly 9 months ago, my career as a bartender was conceived in a most unexpected fashion. As I wandered the streets of Moscow on either Mardi Gras or St. Patrick's Day (am I the only one who can'

When I last left you, humble readers, I was enthralling you with a tale from my past that had a point that I hadn't gotten to yet, and included two key characters thus far: 1) The Man in Red - either Santa or Satan, depending on whether or not you're stupid enough to believe that Santa is real. 2) The Action Figure in Blue - Billy! Billy the Blue Ranger!  While I have significantly nicer things to say about the latter, the former is who the second half of this entry will focus on primarily in the interest of reaching that point that I keep telling you that this blog entry definitely has. In case you missed the first half of the entry, RECAP: A man dressed as Santa used to come to my house a week or two before Christmas in an attempt to steal any innocence I had remaining, but would always leave a shweet toy (like Billy!) next to my lifeless body after I passed out from the sheer horror of his presence. Because of a significant and easily exploited loophole in th