Big Brother: the Bartender Edition

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Dear Creepy, Invasive Portland Bartenders,

thank you for chiming in with your helpful opinions on whiskey, relationships, or whatever intimate moment it was I happened to be quietly sharing with my friend. Apparently sitting at the bar gives you carte blanche to intrude on what we had so naively thought was a private conversation. I was unaware that your proximity to patrons gives you permission to eavesdrop and contribute your worthless opinion, such as "My girlfriend does the same thing! Women are crazy, man". In summation, stop fucking spying on people who have the naivete to sit at the bar. Do not enter our conversation. We're not talking to you. And we're gonna move to a table now, you fucking creep. PS. I'm tipping you 5 percent.

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