I hate that Gran Patron bitch. Sitting up there on the top shelf glass looking down on the rest of us as if we were distilled in the rusty toilet tank in some forgotten mental hospital. She's dusty. No one wants her. No one can afford her. But she doesn't care.
Six, maybe seven ounces short, I'd call her a wallflower, but wallflowers are sweet and shy. She's simply spiteful.
Me? Standing back here on the side- I get passed around regularly. I feel her glassy stare on me each time I'm poured sloppily into shot glasses or shaken with some Gran Marnier to make a margarita. My taste is less important than my bite. I don't discriminate- college kids, dirty old men, thirty-something women out for a girl's night. I take care of them all.
In all my time here, I have no idea who takes Gran Patron. No one has bothered with her.
I make my way to every corner of the bar- to the dart boards, to Pool Table #1 and that bitch just watches me have all the fun.
Assignment notes: It's the weekend! Time to celebrate and spend time with the ones you love (like Jack Daniels). Write a description of your favorite bar or hangout from an unusual perspective. Maybe you're a fly on the wall or the bathroom attendant.
CG notes: I don't really know where this is going. I don't know what beverage the narrator is. I just think that $200 bottles of tequila are stuck up.