I used to bartend at a gentleman’s club. I had a regular come in who was well-known for pregaming beforehand. One time, he overdid it and could barely pull his wallet out to pay the door cover before weaving his way to the bar. I immediately placed down a glass of water once he managed to climb up into the seat.

Me: “Hey, man. I’m glad you’re here—” *I wasn’t* “—but you’ve clearly had some drinks before you got here, and I legally can’t serve you anything alcoholic right now. So, if you want to order some food—” *we had a full kitchen* “—or have a soda with the girls and hang out, that’s perfectly fine. In fact, the sodas are free if you want to order from the kitchen.”

He immediately got pissed and started demanding a beer. I shut that down.

Me: “Stop. Look at me. You’re drunk right now, and we both know it. I’m not risking our liquor license or getting fined my d*** self if word gets out that I served someone who almost fell trying to sit at my bar. So, you have two choices. Calm the f*** down and sober up for an hour or so, or leave right now.” 

Yeah, I probably could have been more tactful but this wasn’t exactly a high-end place.

Instead, he chose violence. He tried to reach across the bar and grab my shirt. I stepped back and flagged the two bouncers nearby who were doing a good job and keeping an eye on things. They secured him.

Me: “He’s out, guys. Just give him back his door cover and put him outside, please.”

They did, and he was shoved unceremoniously out the front door, which was locked behind him.

He was stupid, but since he arrived by taxi, he had to wait for another one to take him home or wherever he went, so at least he was smart enough to not drive drunk.

The owner talked to me about it at closing.

Owner: “I hate pissing off a regular, but I know he’ll eventually be back, hopefully having learned a lesson. I’m proud of you for protecting the club and following the law.”

The man was a huge pervert, but he protected and backed all of his employees, so some credit is due there. I gave both bouncers $20 and a handshake for having my back, which they weren’t expecting. But that was the first time something like this had happened, and I wanted them to know how much I appreciated it. They were even more protective — of everyone — after that.

Now that the health crisis is over, my place of work wants to hold little parties so that all of us remote workers can meet each other. Most of these are at bars. I don’t drink, so I usually don’t bother to show.

They schedule one such meeting at a bar that’s pretty close to my house. I tell them I’m not going to show because I don’t drink, but they badger me into promising to come to this because it’s so close to my house. Apparently, they chose it specifically so they could meet me.

The day comes and I bicycle to the bar in question. I arrive on time and wait for an hour for anyone else to arrive. I double-check my email to make sure the address and bar name are correct repeatedly. No one shows, not even the Human Resources guy who was so enthused to meet me.

Finally, I buy myself a Shirley Temple, a Virgin Mary, and a plate of wings and have a little party all by myself. I then submit it as an expense.

To my mild surprise, the company reimburses me for it.

When I ask Human Resources about it, they avoid the topic instead of explaining why they didn’t show up.

This incident occurred on the day of one of the biggest sports games of the season. Since tickets to the final were so expensive, and the team I supported had the rare opportunity to win three trophies in one season, I went into the city to support my team.

I found a bar in the centre of the fan zone that had security and such checking IDs and making sure everything was orderly. Great! Should be a safe environment.

I nabbed a drink from the bar, headed up to the balcony, and started watching the pre-game coverage.

After about an hour of being up there undisturbed, people started filtering in at a rapid pace. I grabbed another few drinks and made my way back to the balcony. Ten minutes later, this rude guy approached me.

Rude Guy: “You shouldn’t be here! It’s private! You need to go somewhere else!”

I laughed. There was no signage that said this area was private, no other groups had said anything, and the security team nor the bar staff had mentioned it being private. As far as I was concerned, this guy had no grounds to demand I leave and no authority to make me leave.

Me: “Despite what you may think, I don’t know you, and you don’t know me. If you genuinely believe I shouldn’t be here, it’s down to security to deal with, not you.”

Rude Guy: *Angry* “I’m going to get security to kick you out! I paid £500 for the balcony!”

Yeah, sure. I didn’t believe this blowhard any more than I believed that he “owned” the balcony.

Five minutes after this, I finished my first drink and went downstairs of my own accord, not feeling safe with that belligerent idiot being next to me. Ten minutes later, security approached me and asked me to step outside.

Security: “A gentleman on the balcony told us that you have been causing trouble and hanging around in places you’re not allowed to be in.”

Me: “Is there signage prohibiting access to the balcony?”

Security: “No.”

Me: “Have the staff told people it’s private?”

Security: “No.”

Me: “Is there any rule against me drinking on the balcony on my own, not disturbing anybody?”

Security: “No. But this gentleman did, in fact, pay for the seating and use of the balcony for the evening for himself and his work friends.”

Finally, he admitted:

Security: “You’re not allowed up there because it is private, but how were you meant to know?”

One of the rude guy’s friends, who was kind of on the fence about it, was nearby, now looking very sheepish about how badly his “friend” had treated me. He tried to make amends.

Rude Guy’s Friend: “If you’d like to join us up there for an evening, you can.”

Me: “Thanks, but I don’t feel safe up there with your friend acting how he did.”

The security officer made it clear that keeping patrons safe was his priority and that he would have a word with the guy about his conduct. The friend apologised for the whole situation and for how the guy had treated me. I was free to return and watch the match — from the packed ground floor — and later on, I noticed that the same security officer was now serving as a bouncer to the “VIP section” and looked very uncomfortable about it.

We didn’t win the match, but I had a good night with several other supporters who were decidedly more friendly.

A woman orders a drink at last call only to finish it and have us find out that the card she gave us was declined.

Customer: “Ugh, just find a way to use the card anyway.”

Me: “Do you have any cash?”

Customer: “I just have that one card!”

Me: “You need to find another way to pay.”

Customer: “I’m a woman, so the drink should have been free anyway! You should take some responsibility for me not being able to pay for my drink.“

Related:
This Is Why We’re In A Recession, Part 110
This Is Why We’re In A Recession, Part 109
This Is Why We’re In A Recession, Part 108
This Is Why We’re In A Recession, Part 107
This Is Why We’re In A Recession, Part 106

I’m a woman in my early twenties, and I work as a bartender in a restaurant. It’s not a formal restaurant. We’re very casual, although we still get some “bougie” guests on occasion.

We work until 12:00. Last Saturday, a group came in at around 11:00 pm. They had made a reservation for eleven adults and one child for a small wedding dinner. They came in about an hour late without having called in advance to tell us.

As the evening went on and the alcohol kept going, they became more and more obnoxious. After their dinner, the mother of the bride took the child — who was around two or three — around the restaurant playing the “Oh, wow, look at that!” game. Things started going downhill when she walked up to our open kitchen and pointed at the kamado grill standing in the kitchen.

Bride’s Mother: “Oooh, look at that beehive!”

The kid squealed in excitement and started reaching for it.

Meanwhile, I was standing there minding my business, shining glasses and such, when the lady casually started walking toward the swinging door leading to the kitchen. I ran up to her and explained how she OBVIOUSLY wasn’t allowed to walk in the kitchen, how it was a health and safety violation, and so on.

Bride’s Mother: “Oh, it’s no biggie. We just wanna look at the beehive and we’ll be right out.”

What? 

Me: “Ma’am, you are not going in there. And it’s not a beehive; it’s a hot grill!”

The kid started getting upset, and the woman started getting snappy at me.

Bride’s Mother: “It’s not a big deal! Just let us in to check it out. [Kid] is interested to see it!”

I stood between her and the door, not letting her in, and this woman tried squeezing in from the side. I gently pushed her back by her shoulders. She snapped.

Bride’s Mother: *Yelling* “You assaulted me! You have no right to touch me. We are paying thousands of euros to eat here, and we should be allowed to at least walk around the place!”

Me: “You’re welcome to walk around the seating area but absolutely not around the kitchen or any other staff-only areas.”

Her new son-in-law came over and got her to go back to their table.

I was still standing there flabbergasted. How can a woman of her age not understand the concept of not being allowed to walk in a restaurant kitchen like it’s her own, with a child nonetheless?