I miss working. With only having two extremely short-lived jobs while in Vietnam, I never thought I could admit to missing being steadily employed.
I miss making a pocket full of money for pouring and running drinks while wisecracking all night. Where every night is either a ferocious party or a dark reclusion and everyone who shows up is looking to escape what’s happening outside, finding relief and vigor by clutching an adult beverage.
Any gig in a crazy bar is a gig that will always be sorely missed sooner or later.