You decide to take this opportunity to indulge in job benefits liberally. By two hours in you’ve put a major dent in the alcohol supply. You’re barely even concentrating on your job; you’re too busy drinking up everything. People are starting to get angry.

“Hey fuckin’ bartender! We wanted some beers!”
“Yeah? Well (hic!) That’s tough shit ‘cause there ain’t no more. (Hic!) No wait…Here! Serve your fuckin’ self!” you say giving them the beer spigot hose.

Actually at this point you’re not even doing a half assed job; you’re just goofing off on “company” time.

By the time Tina gets on stage, you’re passed out. She’s not pleased. One of the reasons why she wanted you to work here is so you could be closer and appreciate what she does. You can’t very well do that lying on the floor creating a drool puddle.

At the end of the night she drags you outside and then takes your truck keys. You’re not really awake, but you hear her say:

“You can walk home motherfucker!” and then hear the click clack of high heels walking off.
“Hmm um…thank you.” You mumble and fall back to your drunken slumber in the parking lot.