Every party needs a bartender. Bartenders want things. Money, breaks, a pulse.

So I set up a Halloween bar and hired a six-foot skeleton instead.

He showed up on time. He hasn't left since.

His name is John. He's six feet tall, his eyes light up, and he wears an apron and a flannel, which is more effort than most of my guests make.

He works for free. He doesn't take tips. He doesn't take breaks.

He holds a drink all night and never drinks it. Honestly, a role model.

John is mostly management. The actual cocktails come from the machine.

Capsule in, button pressed, drink made. This one comes with a shaker, so it looks like somebody back there knows what they're doing.

Nobody back there knows what they're doing.

I also set up the classic Premium, because one machine felt understaffed.

Same idea. Capsule in, lid down, cocktail out. The bottles sit right on the sides, where everyone can keep an eye on them.

John supervises both machines. He doesn't really have a choice.

The capsules are the Halloween collection, so the drinks have names like Witch's Heart, Vampire's Kiss, Sour Spell and Caramel Appletini.

I lined them up in a drawer like a little pharmacy. It felt appropriate.

John recommends all of them. John recommends whatever you point at.

He's been behind the bar for a while now. He doesn't get tired. He hasn't asked for a night off.

Last call is whenever I say it is. He's fine with that.

Best hire I've ever made.