“A Clint”
So I’m at the bar last night, waiting for my drink to arrive, when the man beside me orders a “Clint.” “A Clint?” says the bartender. The man reaches into his pocket and offers the bartender a business card. The bartender examines the card and nods his head. “One Clint, coming up!” I turn to the man beside me, who appears to be the same age as my father. “It’s none of my business,” I say, “but what the hell is a Clint?” The man smiles and hands me his card. “Keep it,” he says. “Might come in handy sometime.” Read More