Unfiltered Story #190568

(I work as a security specialist and usually am the go-to-guy when it comes to difficult customers that need velvet gloves. One of these was a grocery store, which happened to have a discotheque right above it. Just before the store closed and the place upstairs opened, there already were a lot of troublemakers waiting impatiently, hanging out at the store. Just like this time. The owner was already on edge because usually closing on a saturday night resulted in police and paramedics.)

Closing up, I make my round through the store ushering people out, ending it at the entrance. Between the inner and outer doors three guys were hanging out, quite drunk already, three differrent sized folks, kinda like the Daltons. I have been watching them on and off for a while and put them into my ‘harmless buddies’ category in my head.

Me: “Hi, I’m afraid we’re closing. They’re opening upstairs tho, if you want?”

Short guy: “Oh right, there’s that place upstairs! Yeah lets go there, guys.”

Middle guy: “Nah, I like it here and my beer’s still not empty.”
(They brought that from home, but then they weren’t really buying anything inside anyway and didn’ bother anyone, so I let it slide.)

Tall guy: “Yeah man, but they’re closing.”

I give them some moments to sort it out, they calmly discuss it a few times over while I already lock the doors down so they’re only one-way, keeping in earshot, then I make my way back there.

Me: “Reached a decision yet? I don’t mind you hanging out over there by the park benches or upstairs, really. As long as I can close up here, we’re good.”
So far we’re all being rather calm and bro-like, but the store owner peeks around the corner anyway, in a paranoid way. I know he has his hand on the phone to get the police, just waiting for a cue. I signal him a clear no, since they’re being nice.

Middle guy: “Yeah we discussed it and.. ya know, I kinda want a fight instead.”

All of us stop to stare at his calm but resolute statement.

Tall guy, sighing: “Oh come on, you’re not serious. Lets just go?”

Middle guy: “Nah man, I mean it. I wanna fight. Like, right here. Right now!”
He gets louder and displays that he’s barely able to stand anymore.

Short guy, patronizing: “Dude you’re drunk, how about we-”

Middle guy: “NO! I wanna fight! He wants to fight me too, right?”
They look at me while I can see the store owner slowly slink around the corner, to get a better look but not draw their attention. He’s still holding his phone for quick access. I signal him a clear no yet again.

Me: “Nah, not my style. Besides, you guys totally behaved all evening – well, unless we go through with this new idea now.”
The tall guy gives me an understanding look and tries to drag his buddy away gently. He resists, almost sending their beers flying from the table they were standing at. Store owner raises his phone. Another ‘no’. This guy really is paranoid and has a short fuse, if any. Considering the history, not to my surprise.

The two buddies do a great job of trying to calm #3 down, but he seems to be used to it by now, ending up pushing them away and getting real loud. I notice he’s probably done more training than me and even drunk, I shouldn’t mess with him alone.

Middle guy: “Come on, bring it! We’re fighting! If you win, I’ll leave!”

Me, with a deep sigh and a fake migraine act, fishing for last straws: “Suuure, whatever, geez, lets.. take this outside, at least. You guys just.. go on ahead, alright?”

He huffs, sticks his chest out, puts on a victorious smile, lines up in the middle between his puzzled buddies and, under the flabbergasted stares of everyone, calmly walks through the now one-way automatic doors with the boys in tow, clearly feeling a million bucks already.
The very moment the doors close behind him, locking themselves with the slightest -clack-, we see him freeze on the spot as if lightning just struck him, tense up and turn around in slow motion, jaw dropping, staring at the door, realizing what he just did.

Me, through the glass, with an apologetic shrug: “..and have a nice evening?”

When I turn around and round the corner to make sure the owner didn’t hastily call the police after all, I find him holding onto the wall in a gigglefit instead.
It took the two buddies a good five minutes to calm down the betrayed figure, entirely destroyed by what just happened, stammering about “he tricked me” and “not fair” in pure disbelief while they tried their best not to laugh. Eventually they went home and the store owner finally did see it was about time to learn a new approach to these situations from us.
For some reason I never saw the three of them again, though.