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.


"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.