The long-hair with the loin cloth and tool belt, sat beside me. He wasn't to bad to look at or smell after he had cleaned himself up a bit.He must have been getting a little buzzed though because he starts complaining to me a little..
He says,
I repaired the hole in the roof, but do they call me a carpenter?
I fixed the leaking faucet in the mens room, but do they call me a plumber?
I build a rock wall around the paint truck to stop the wave of the fuschia, but do they call me a mason?
No,But I fuck one inflatable sheep...

I'm thinking this is someone Gareth, Art, or the bare-chested man in the MacGregor kilt could handle better than myself so I slip off the bar stool and go find myself a bottle of Cuervo behind the bar.(I figure I might as well take the whole bottle since we have no-one to tend bar)
I think there is some coconut, lime and salt under the tree so I wonder off that way.