A Night of Unbridled Debauchery at the Wandering Oak

I’ve had my fair share of wild nights at the Wandering Oak, but last night takes the cake. It started innocently enough, with a group of rowdy travelers coming in, looking for a place to rest their weary heads. But as the night wore on, and the ale flowed like a river, things took a turn for the worse. Or should I say, for the better? I lost count of how many times I had to pour drinks, wipe down the bar, and deal with the groping hands of our patrons. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. There’s something about the way a man’s eyes light up when he’s had a few too many that just makes my heart skip a beat.

I’ve learned to roll with the punches as a barmaid, but even I was caught off guard by the sheer level of debauchery that ensued. At one point, I had to intervene in a fight between two of our more…ahem…exuberant patrons. Let’s just say it involved a lot of shouting, a broken chair, and a very bruised ego. But in the end, it all added to the excitement of the night. And as the sun began to rise, and the patrons began to stumble out into the morning light, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. It had been a night to remember, and I couldn’t wait to do it all again.

As I was cleaning up the last of the mess, one of our regulars, a burly blacksmith, came up to me and whispered something in my ear. I’m not sure what it was, but it made me blush. I think it was something about how he’d like to take me home and show me a good time. I just smiled and winked at him, and he went off, whistling a happy tune. It’s moments like those that make me love my job. I mean, what’s not to love about a place where you can get groped, fight, and be propositioned all in the same night?