2 DUDES AND THE CHEF AT THE BAR

CHEF:"Cornhole, dude! You throw the little beanbag through the hole."

DUDE 1: "Oh, yeah yeah yeah."

DUDE 2: "Dude, you're from Oklahoma. Isn't that like chess for you guys?"

DUDE 1: "Oh, man, we would just have Mom get on her hands and knees, naked, and try to get it in her butthole."

CHEF: "Um, okay."

DUDE 2: "Hmmm. Good one, bro."

DUDE 1: "Shit (haha). I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm just fuckin' bombin' left and right today... So, hey, where's this bar again?"

DUDE 2: "Chicago, bro."

CHEF: "Yeah, it's right there on Fulton Street."

DUDE 1: "Do they even make much money there?"

CHEF: "Are you kidding? They're probably the best bartenders in the world. Each bartender works their own drink station. They break up all the drinks so each station's designated to certain cocktails. Everything's right there within reach. They don't have to take a step. They have something like 40 different kinds of ice. They're basically chefs really."

DUDE 2: "Molly was in Chicago last weekend. I told her to go but she said there was like a 3 hour wait. She said the line went like all the way down the block."

CHEF: "Hey, I'd wait it that line."

DUDE 1: "How much are the drinks?"

CHEF: "They start around $15. So $15 to say, $40."

DUDE 2: "Hey, what was that bar in Japan you posted yesterday? I looked at the time and it was like over 5 minutes or something."

DUDE 1: "Oh yeah. That just was for 2 drinks!"

CHEF: "Oh that's nothing. Some drinks at the Avery take them like 8 to 10 minutes to make. But, you know, you've gotta like that sort of thing. You don't go in there to hang out with your friends. And the bartenders don't even take your orders."

DUDE 1: "What, they just get a ticket?"

CHEF: "Yeah, they won't even talk to you. They can't."

DUDE 2: "Hey, I get it. I can appreciate the molecular side of things."

CHEF: "Yeah, I like the science behind it. I like to break things down that way. It forces you to learn the reasons why you're doing something. Most cooks have no idea. They were just taught to do something a certain way but they don't really know why."

DUDE 1: "Yeah, I don't see how they make much money there. Hey, what if you went in there drunk and like ordered a Jager Bomb or something (haha)?"

CHEF: "No, they won't even make a cosmo. I don't even think they have beer. Just what's on the cocktail menu. They don't allow any substitutions."

DUDE 1: "Yeah, but that would be pretty fuckin' funny though (haha), you walk in there all drunk and shit, you know..."

CHEF: "I heard they're hiring."

DUDE 1: "Shit."

CHEF: "Hey, listen, I gotta go. I still gotta get all my orders in."

DUDE 2: "Yeah, you go, get those orders in."

CHEF: "Okay, see you, gentlemen."

DUDE 1: "See ya, brother."

DUDE 2: "Take it easy... So dude, where did you see this picture again?"

DUDE 1: "Oh, man. You don't wanna see it. No one should see it. But all you gotta do is Google headless girl in Syria. It's fucking horrific. She's in this little dress with white stalkings. It must've happened on a day of worship or something. It's weird. There's not much blood on her dress. Just a few little drops here and there."

DUDE 2: "So what, it's like a can of beans up there."

DUDE 1: "Oh, man, it's like an open jar of jelly or something. But you gotta look at her hands. These perfect little hands. She's probably only like 3 or 4 years old. Her father's holding her up. I can hardly talk about it without crying. I don't know, it's almost beautiful, ya know. I can't stop looking at it. I've been looking at it almost every day."

DUDE 2: "What's the expression on her father's face? Like is he like?..."

DUDE 1: "Dude, it's just... I don't know, man. I looked at it again just before I left the house."

DUDE 2: "Why do you do that to yourself?"

DUDE 2: "I don't know."