Change With That

Tonight, as I was closing up a bar tab, the bartender (who was wearing about $0.50 worth of red polyester—seriously, if that's all you're going to wear, why bother with clothes at all (not that she didn't look good; in fact, she looked spectacular, but I suspect that she would have been just as spectacular, if not more so, without the fifty cents worth of fabric)?) gave me a lip-liner pencil to sign the credit card slip with.

I believe her claim that it was her first night (she managed to forget to give me the actual bar tab along with the credit card slip), but seriously, she couldn't tell the difference between lip-liner and a ball-point pen? I thought that I was the one who was supposed to be drunk...