Nothing like a little liquid courage to help you stand out.

Sylvia grabbed a glass and placed it under the revolving liquor dispenser, adding a shot each of vodka, gin, rum and tequila. She topped it with a splash of Coke and pushed it towards Pamela.

"You know we're not supposed to drink while we're working," Pamela said while looking over her shoulder for the bar manager.

It was 1991 and the line to get into Club 448 was out the door.

"You see how busy it is, Pammers?" said Sylvia. "It's only 9:30. If you don't drink this now, you'll never make it through the night."

"If I drink that now, I'll never make it to tomorrow," said Pamela.

"Fine. Suit yourself," said Sylvia before downing the entire Long Island.

Pamela just shook her head and turned to the tall curly-haired guy who had just bellied up to the bar. "What can I get you?"

"How about your phone number?" he said.

Pamela blushed. She wasn't used to being hit on. It was usually Sylvia who got all the attention.

"Me?" she said to him.

"You're the only one here, aren't you?"

Sylvia looked miffed, but Pamela smiled. Still, she knew better than to hook up with a customer.

"How about a Long Island instead?" she asked.

"Whatever you say, gorgeous."

When Pamela turned to the liquor dispenser, she could still feel his eyes on her. She smiled again.

"Don't even think about it," said Sylvia. "He's a creep. I'll handle it." She grabbed the glass out of Pamela's hand and changed out the black continuous flow dispensers for the red measured ones. Then she added a few drops of each liquor to the glass and filled the rest up with Coke.

"Here ya go, handsome," Sylvia said as she leaned over the bar and handed him the drink. She made sure to leave her hand on the glass a little too long after he had reached for it.

But he didn't even acknowledge her. He was looking past her and at Pamela. Pamela blushed again.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"P … Pamela," she squeaked. But he couldn't hear her over the noise in the club.

"PAMELA," she yelled.

"I'm Rod," he said and handed her a cocktail napkin. "If I can't call you, then you can call me." And he turned and walked away.

Pamela watched after him for a moment until Sylvia snatched the napkin out of her hand.

Sylvia read the note aloud. "Call me anytime … YAM!" She started laughing. "YAM! Are you kidding me? You can't date this guy, Pammers. He's got the penmanship of a three-year-old!" She crumpled the napkin and threw it in the garbage.

But when she wasn't looking, Pamela retrieved it and tucked it in her pocket.

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