Andrew's at the door on a long, cold, busy night.
A group of guys are hanging around the door. One of them starts mumbling something.
"I'm blahblahjibberjabbermumbleblahgolskdjlfaewkciela."
"Huh?" says Andrew.
"BlahblahIcan'ttalkandnoonecanunderstandawordisay."
"Huh?" repeats Andrew.
Finally, the guy manages to utter four of the scariest words ever spoken:
"I'm the designated driver."
Needless to say, eyes were on him that night. I don't think he drove anywhere and I'm pretty sure Dave refused to serve him. (Doubtful the guy could give a drink order anyway).
People, please be safe. Our employees have driven many a person home when they've had too much, and while we're not promoting ourselves as a taxi service, the bartenders are happy to call a cab, call a friend, or find you a ride.