As the guy slams back the triple scotch, the bartender can’t help but feel a mix of sympathy and curiosity. “Rough day, huh?” he says, trying to break the tension.
The guy lets out a heavy sigh, his eyes still burning with frustration. “You have no idea,” he replies. “I mean, I knew things weren’t going great between us, but finding my wife in bed with my best friend? That’s a whole new level of betrayal.”
The bartender nods understandingly and pours another shot, pushing it towards the guy with a reassuring smile. “On the house,” he says, hoping it might offer some comfort.
The guy appreciates the gesture, but the pain is still evident in his expression. “I confronted her right then and there,” he continues. “Told her to pack her bags and leave. I won’t put up with that kind of disrespect.”
“And your friend?” the bartender asks, intrigued to hear the fallout from such a heated situation.
The guy’s face twists into a mix of anger and disbelief. “Oh, I made sure he knew how I felt,” he says, taking the third shot and throwing it back.
“I looked him straight in the eye and said, BAD DOG.