Friday, March 16, 2007

An Open Letter to Hot Bartender Kacey Doxsey

Dear Hot Bartender Kacey Doxsey,

Hi. You don't know me. And I don't know you. But in an earlier blog entry about St. Patrick's Day last year, I did excerpt a bit of a Newsvine/AP story, which featured a picture of you (with caption), mixing four gallons of traditional St. Paddy's Day Margaritas at One Eyed Lizzy's in Savannah, Georgia, where you were apparently working at the time, and which is also apparently the only bar left in the Western Hemisphere that doesn't have a Web site.

Now, I don't know if you're still working there. Or if you're even still in the Greater Savannah area. And I don't know, in point of fact, if you are a hot bartender. You could be a hot manager. Or a hot barback. Or a hot server. In fact, I'm not even sure that you're hot (the picture is kind of dark), but I'm guessing that you are, since according to my referrer logs, people are searching on your name in Google, and they hit my blog on a fairly regular basis. (Actually, this was truer in August of 2006, when I first started drafting this.)

Maybe the people who are searching for you are friends with whom you've lost touch. Or maybe it's because you have an unusually spelled, rhyming name that people remember. Or it could be that you have a manner that really puts people at ease. Or maybe you're a meth dealer. Or you're very sexually open. I really have no idea.

Anyway, the point of all this, besides just snarking on some random girl just because she happened to be featured in a newspaper photo caption last year, is that I just wanted to let you know that if you're ever feeling down, just know that there are people who are interested in knowing more about you.

Also, you might want to consider carrying pepper spray, and an edged or impact weapon, and remember to always be aware of your surroundings.



P.S. I'm sure Savannah is really nice. Considering all that, you know, unpleasantness a century or two ago. I've never been -- actually, I think I did pass through back in 1993, when Duke played Cal in the NCAA tournament -- we were coming back from Fripp Island, which has nothing to do with King Crimson, and we stopped in some sports bar -- I'm sure it wasn't yours, to watch what turned out to be a loss (damn you, Jason Kidd! Never forget!)

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