“It’s tough in this city these days, everything is getting exponentially more expensive and I’m not really making any more money while serving,” exclaims John Friedman,
“I still like to drink and eat well but the rent increase has taken money out of my discretionary income,” he continues more eagerly as the alcoholic inside him comes out. “So to save money on alcohol, I’ll just drink leftover wine from the tables I serve,” a daft smile appears.
“Once you inhale two or three glasses you really stop caring what your co-workers think and their disgusted looks stop having an effect on me.”
Ending his sentence quickly as he runs off to another table, “the workday gets better and you can finally stand your bitching customers. Win-win.”