Anonymous confessions of a bartender
As told to Kevin Ferguson

“When he first came in I didn’t notice him. He was pretty nondescript: full suit, sat down and ordered a drink. He sat festering alone on the side of the bar for a little while before I went to see if he wanted another beer. He didn’t. Instead, he wanted all of the money in the cash register, and he pulled a ‘gun’ on me.

“I say ‘gun’ because I couldn’t tell what it was—it was hidden in his jacket pocket and totally invisible. It could have been anything. Nevertheless, I called his bluff, pulled the asshole by his red and black power tie and threw him to the ground. Once I had called the cops I realized that the ‘gun’ he was brandishing me with was nothing more than a water pistol.”

HEY, BARTENDER—SPILL IT! SEND YOUR SECRETS (ANONYMITY GUARANTEED) TO SUBMISSIONS [at] THEDISTRICTWEEKLY [dot] COM.