His Race Card Has Expired

(I’m working at a pub near to my home over the summer holidays. Against the odds, I ended up having to serve my former childhood bully the previous day. The next day I am called into the office by the manager.)

Manager: “I’ve had a very serious complaint about you. I feel like I know you, so I thought I’d ask for your side of the story before it goes anywhere. A customer yesterday alleges you racially abused him.”

(It takes a moment for me to put the pieces together.)

Me: “Would the complaint be from [Bully], by any chance?”

Manager: “Err…”

Me: “He tried to get me thrown out of school, too. And my brother thrown out of scouts. He’s got a few issues.”

Manager: “Umm…”

Me: “Would a character witness help?”

(I go down to the bar, where a former classmate is working. While my manager is out of sight but within earshot I ask:)

Me: “Hey, [Coworker], remember [Bully]?”

Coworker: “Oh, that little s***? Threw a chair at you, slammed a window on your head, then claimed racism when you complained to the teacher?”

Me: “That’s the one.” *I turn to the still-hidden manager* “That wasn’t even the worst of it.”

Manager: “Enough said. If he comes back, tell him to get lost.”

(I love my manager.)