Tequila Christmas

Remember Sallie?

My version of Billy Madison's, "You can stay home with me, Billy, and help me shave my ARM pits!"

She came into work this morning, her first time since Christmas, and I asked her what Santa had brought her.

Clothes, clothes and more clothes, she said. She was giving me a detailed breakdown of nothing but clothes.

"Nothing else?" I asked. "Just clothes?"

"Yes," she said.

"What about tequila?" Anyone who knows Sallie knows she loves tequila like Brett Favre loves adrenaline.

"Oh, yes," she said, acting like it wasn't that big of a deal.

"What kind?"

"Jose. I already done finished one bottle, but I got another big one to tear into for New Year's."

"Do you do shots?" I asked. "Or sip it?"

"SHOTS," Sallie said. "I don't do no sippin'. Sippin' for little girls. I take shots. And I don't mix it with nothin' neither. Maybe a little salt, but ain't nothin' else."

And then, the capper, before she walked out of my room:

"I like it strong and HOT."

That's what she said.