Contains Sodium Hypochlorite

===LETTER FROM PORTLAND===

BEHIND the bar we have any number of bottles and large jugs, everything from Bleach to Bloody Mary Mix. And most of the bottles look different from one another and are clearly-marked.

But two of the bottles are quite similar: the Sweet 'n' Sour Bar Mix and the Dish Sanitizer Fluid. They are actually contained in the exact same gallon-sized plastic jugs; the only thing that's different is the labels. What's worse, the liquids are about the same color (light greenish-yellow).

I think you know where this is going.

So earlier today, the bar was incredibly slow, and I was doing standard back-work: emptying the beer bucket, restocking the cooler, cutting fresh garnishes. Totally as usual, I mixed some new Sweet 'n' Sour and put new detergent in the dishwasher.

Just then a bald guy walks into the bar. He's rough around the edges; looks like he works construction or something. He orders a whiskey sour. I make it for him (bucket glass, rocks, shot whiskey, fill Sweet n' Sour) and he starts drinking it.

Just then I happen to look in the cleaning supplies cabinet. I notice that the Sweet n' Sour Bar Mix is down there.

Hmm. That's unusual, I think. Then I notice that the Dish Sanitizer Fluid is on the shelf of Bar Mixes.

Wait.

Shit.

Did I? Could I have?

Covertly, I pour a little of the Sweet n' Sour I mixed earlier into a shot glass and taste it.

Oh shit.

Just to make sure, I open the dish sanitizer and sniff. Sure enough, it smells like a gin rickey in there.

Only then does it really hit me, what I've done. I've served this guy a glass of whiskey mixed with watered-down dish detergent.

(Also, I've been sanitizing dishes with Sweet n' Sour, but somehow that seems less pressing.)

Trying to act nonchalant--which is difficult, considering this guy is the only person in the bar--I take out the bottle of Dish Sanitizer Fluid and read the label. Maybe I have lucked out, I think. Maybe my bosses have gone organic, and the detergent is totally biodegradable. Who knows, maybe it's even delicious!

There is a skull and crossbones on the bottle. Under that, it says "Danger, Poison." Under that it says "Contains Sodium Hypochlorite."

I have never actually started sweating when it's not hot out. Never before, I mean. But now my forehead breaks out with all these beads of sweat, and I don't know what to do.

Because I can't think of anything else to say, I turn to the guy and ask,

"How's your drink?"

He kind of grimaces and says, "It's OK."

"You want me to make you a new one?"

He gives me a questioning look and says, "No, thanks."

I should have just taken it. At that point he had only drunk maybe about 1/5 of it.

But really. Time out. How do you drink a glass of watered-down dish detergent and not know it? Is the well whiskey really that bad? Does this guy lack a sense of taste?

Anyway, frantic at this point, but trying not to show it, I go back to the gallon jug of Dish Sanitizer Fluid. I'm reading the label, looking for anything to help me out. Then I find something.

Underneath "Contains Sodium Hypochlorite," it says "In case of contact with eyes, flush with water for fifteen minutes." Unerneath that, it says, "If ingested, feed cooked cereal and milk or raw egg and milk, followed by cooking oil. Call a physician."

At this point, I've got my act together a little better, so I pull the guy's drink.

"Hey, man, I just tasted our Sweet n' Sour mix, and I think it's gone bad. Let me make you a new one."

"Yeah, I thought it kind of tasted funny."

No kidding. I make him a fresh whiskey sour, this time with real bar sour. Then I snap into action.

As of a month and a half ago, my bar is open for breakfast. Don't ask me why. The only people we ever see that early are tweakers and video lottery addicts. The food isn't even that good. Before, I thought breakfast at the Gray Goat was a really dumb idea. But now I'm suddenly really glad about it.

I go back into the kitchen and start cooking up a storm. I cook oats, I fry eggs, I grill hash browns, I make big slabs of greasy bacon with LOTS of cooking oil. Seriously, I have never cooked this much, this fast in my whole life. I am done in like ten minutes.

I bring it out to the customer on a tray, stacked high with plates and bowls. I top it off with a huge glass of milk. I set it down in front of the guy. He's confused.

"What's this for?"

I should have thought of this.

"Umm."

It would have been normal--or at least explainable--for me to say I felt bad about messing up your drink earlier. As far as he knows, all I did was serve him rancid bar sour. But for some reason, this eminently reasonable answer does not occur to me.

"You looked hungry?"

I am still sweating pretty hard. The guy gives me a really suspicious look. After all, it is just after 7 pm, and I have just served him a huge tray of breakfast.

"It's a promotion we're doing. As of last month, we're open for breakfast, you know?."

He's still just kind of looking at me. Even now, I think, the Sodium Hypochlorite is making its way through his digestive tract. I'm desperate. I prompt him.

"Better eat up while the eggs are still hot!"

He gives me one last suspicious look, and then, finally, to my immense relief, he starts eating. He's really tearing this breakfast apart. I want to cry I'm so happy. Finally, I stop sweating. Which is good, because my hair and armpits are basically soaked at this point.

I go clean up the kitchen. The guy, for his part, orders another couple whiskey sours. He drinks them at a moderate pace, and I'm thinking everything's fine.

Then he starts making these weird faces. I can literally hear his stomach gurgles from all the way at the other end of the bar. Then he starts burping.

It would be a good ending to the story to say that these burps smelled really foul. But they didn't, actually! Bizarrely enough, they smelled just like Sweet 'n' Sour Bar Mix. Kind of lemony, with hints of bacon and decomposing fruit. They were really pungent too. They filled up the whole bar.

I didn't mind the smell at first. It was interesting. But then it hovered for the next two hours, long after the guy had left, and I suppose this was my punishment for nearly poisoning someone with Sodium Hypochlorite.

JR