Pipe Dreams

I've had a lot of pipe dreams in my life. When I was in high school, for some time I wanted to live in a VW bus and eat pancakes every day. This isn't the kind of stuff I could lie about, I'm not making this up. Most of my dreams these days have something to do with being a productive member of society, but on my own terms, rather than just being a self-important bum.
One of those reoccurring dreams I've had recently involves owning an awesome bar that people could come to in order to eat, drink and be merry. There would be shuffle board, and domestic drafts, and darts, pool, flat screen TVs, and gin fizz. Recently, thinking about something else the bar would need worried me a little bit: Employees.
What worries me about employees is that ultimately, I would have to hire people like myself. They would hate their boss, they would not really care about the job, and most likely, they'd want to own their own awesome bar. They'd want their bar, not mine, to be the place where people go to eat, and drink, and be merry.
I was at a bar just the other day, and had some of the worst service ever. The waiter was drunker than I was, he was writing orders down on bubble gum wrappers, and he was bringing out way too many cheeseburgers, and nowhere near enough water, or ketchup for that matter. I'm actually pretty confidant that he was functionally retarded at that point.
My friend Justen had an idea that would remove the thinking from these ever demanding service jobs that bars rely on to turn a profit. Just have customers write down their own orders, so that they don't have to put their faith in the hands of a gut who's not smart enough to just take two aspirin and call-in in the morning.