The petite, perky blond nudged her way up to the bar. “Excuse me, excuse me,” she nasaly whined. The bartender glanced her way. “Could we, like, you know, change this music?” The bartender disdainfully answered, “No,” and continued pouring drinks. As the petite blond poutedly left, the bartender turned to me. “How would she like it if I asked, ‘Could we, like, change the clientele?'”