Joining

A guy was trying to talk me into joining a club he belongs to. Truth be told, I’m not much of a joiner. And then all the initiation and deep, dark secret stuff they all seem to have. Sorry, I keep enough secrets. I don’t need to try to squeeze a handshake in there.

I’m trying to let him off gently. I don’t need another place I’m rarely at yet throw money into (like my house). I’m rarely in this side of town so it would be an effort to get here. Yes, I know the drinks are cheap but I rarely have time to keep up with all the other bartenders I support.

But he’s tenacious. Good thing I’ve had my shots.

“You know what I always say.” I say. He rolls his eyes and sing-songs the response he thinks is coming,

“I know, I know. You’d never be a member of a club that would have you as a member.”

I look at him askew.

“What are you talking about? I’d never be a member of a club that would have you as a member.”

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