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Night Spies 

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I hang out here with my friends in the biz on Sundays, my night off. As a bartender you hear all kinds of things. One evening when I was working at the Pepper Lounge the phone rang after a busy night. The gentleman on the line went into great detail about how fabulous his food had been, particularly the chocolate mousse, and how much he wanted to compliment the chef and, oh, by the way, in the process of having dinner--perhaps while he was eating the mousse--he seemed to have lost a rubber ring about three and a half inches in diameter. He used it as a tourniquet when giving his diabetic dog shots; by any chance had we found it? Of course, I immediately knew what he was talking about. I thought, Someone's got to hear this--no one will believe me otherwise, and I signaled my friend Andre, whispering, "Pretend that you work here." Without hesitating he picked up the phone and said, "How can I help you?" and the guy started his whole explanation again and Andre was going, "Uh-huh, I see. Oh dear, that is dreadful. You mean you lost your cock ring!" About two weeks later I got a thank-you letter with a cock ring enclosed. Naturally, I gave it to Andre--I've never had much use for one myself.

--Linda Little, bartender


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