And the Red Bull Intervention Continues…

I spent my Easter Sunday lounging at the fabulous Rick’s Cabaret.  All in all it was a very nice laid back, chill evening.  Then the rage started to consume me….the Red Bull monster reared it’s head.  I wanted a Red Bull, I really really wanted one.  I had a variety of choices.  I could easily “pay off” someone to give me one, or just beg profusely, I could even go out for a cigarette break-even though I don’t smoke and sneak off to the drugstore to buy one.  I decided that I would do the right thing.  I would beg the manager for one.  Besides, it was a holiday right?  I prepared what I was going to say, rehearsed it to some of the waitstaff, they agreed that it sounded like a good argument.  I then pled my case.

“It’s Easter Sunday, I’m having kind of a bad night, I’m a little upset and was really hoping that I could just have one Red Bull.  Please.”

The manager responded quickly, as if he was “prepped” for me asking this question.

“Randi you are not allowed to have Red Bull.  You get too wound up and it’s not healthy for you.”

“Oh please.  It’s Easter Sunday.  Please!  I’m having a bad night.”

“Umm….Randi I don’t see how a Red Bull could turn your whole night around.”

Case closed.  Good argument.  He was right.  A Red Bull wouldn’t put me in a better mood, it probably would’ve just made me angrier.  So instead I had a cappuccino.

I’m glad they didn’t serve me Red Bull….God I sound like a crackhead.

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