Mojito Hell

I'm a bartender, and as we all know, it's my job to make drinks. It's my raison d'etre, as it were (and I know my mom is so proud that I'm putting my $100,000 higher education to such good use). One of the drinks I'm asked to make repeatedly is the mojito. I make hundreds of them. Because, you see, we have a $5 mojito drink special.

Do you know what a pain in the ass it is to make this drink? Pick mint. Add sugar. Pour rum, lime juice, and triple sec. Muddle. Add soda. Garnish with lime. And I get to do this all for a $5 drink.

Mojito Hell begins at three o'clock and ends at seven. It's as though someone flicks a switch, and I suddenly find myself muddling, muddling, muddling. My forearm is getting huge (and not just from the masterbation). Then, just as suddenly, it stops. Everyone wants their mojitos for five bucks, but God forbid they have to spend $6.50 (which is the regular price).

I've had customers change their drink order to soda at the magic hour. I've had some beg me to give them their mojitos after 7 pm at the reduced price. (I can't do this, because the computer automatically switches the price at the appointed time. So stop asking.) When you come into the bar and order your mojito, all you're doing is announcing that you're cheap. I imagine the folks behind the counter at MacDonalds feel the same way about people ordering off the dollar menu ("Oooh, you have a whole dollar... Don't forget the tax.").

Now I understand why people are doing this. It's the recession (depression?), and people don't have money. I get why people want (need?) to get drunk on the cheap. But really, if you're so desperate to drink, and don't have the money, let me offer some alternatives.

Go buy a 40 ounce bottle of Colt 45 and drink it in the park. Get a cheap bottle of vodka and drink it in your home. Be really edgy and drink a bottle of shoe polish (like the homeless do). You could get a bottle of Nyquil and enjoy some hallucinations with your drunk. (Wait, Nyquil is actually more expensive than our mojitos. Never mind.) Just stop coming in here and making me mix this annoying, complicated drink. Because my right forearm is doing just fine on its own, thank you very much.