Last night I served a well-dressed, friendly, and polite father and daughter. She was young, 22 or 23. They both ordered fruity tropical drinks with an extra shot of rum. They laughed, ate, and talked for hours. I was fascinated.

Two nights ago my father asked me which for which publishing company I worked. In September I will have worked there for three years.

I also met a woman in her fifties who received a phone call that her daughter had lost their new puppy. Throughout the night the phone calls became more angry and abusive as the puppy was not found. She drank eight Absolut and sodas (light ice, two lemons) and gossiped with her girlfriends for three hours before heading home to join the search.

My dogs have gotten loose a few times. Once I tracked my little hounds through the neighborhood well past four in the morning before finally bringing them home safely. I don't think I even stopped for a bathroom break.

I was speaking with LJ's brother Lee last night as business began to slow down. We were standing approximately three feet in front of the bar when a blonde woman wearing torn jeans, a hot pink t-shirt, a large plastic peace sign hanging from her neck, and what appeared to be Mardi Gras beads approached.

"Where is the bar?" she asked.

I was speechless. Three feet, I said. Perhaps it was only two?

Perhaps it is the fact that I'm spending more and more time with Lee's brother, or perhaps it was the tale I told about how I snuck out of work, moved my car to a discreet parking spot hidden from view of my building, and slept for an hour before returning to work, still groggy, that made Lee close the bar for me. He was working a double and should have left at nine. He took pity on me, gave me a kiss and hug, and sent my on my way. I don't think I've ever been so grateful.

Tonight I will be back at the parents' house to keep an eye on my mother for the evening. I'm trying to figure out how tacky it will be to bring my laundry there to wash while we visit, and whether or not I can figure out a way to tie the dogs outside in their backyard so they're not cooped up in their crate for yet another night. Just need to fit so much in each day that it's becoming difficult.

And with that, I raise my afternoon cup of morning blend with hope for a peaceful weekend.