Drink Until You Lose A Couple Hours

(This is many years ago when my husband and I are just dating. I am working a second job as a bartender as I am a single mom of two. On this particular evening, it is my night to get off early if my bar is slow. My husband and his brother, sister-in-law, and best friend come into my bar just before I am released.)

Husband: “Okay, you’re off. Let’s go to [Bar under new management across town].”

(We head there, but then I remember that since I was working I don’t have my purse or ID with me. I ALWAYS get ID’d at bars at which we aren’t regulars.)

Me: “I don’t have my ID; they won’t serve me.”

Husband: “I’m sure it’ll be okay.”

(We walk into the bar.)

Bartender: *to me* “ID, please.”

Me: *starts giggling*

Bartender: *VERY angrily* “Well, I have to see your ID! See those two guys down the bar? They’re cops! I could get arrested!”

(I know them; they aren’t cops.)

Me: “No, no, I’m sorry. I was just giggling because I just told [Husband] I would get ID’d. I work at [Bar] and I totally get it! We’ll just go somewhere else.”

(We leave. As we’re driving away…)

Husband: “Wow, she was a real b****! We just live up the street; let’s go get your ID and go back.”

(We go get my purse and ID and go back. Note, it’s approximately midnight, and closing time is 2:00 am. We walk back into the bar. I’m the OLDEST out of our group by at least two years.)

Bartender: “ID’s! All of you! Now!”

(We all show ID.)

Bartender: “Okay, what do you want? Make it quick; I’m about to close!”

(We look around questioningly, as there are about twelve people scattered around the bar.)

Husband: “I’ll have a [Beer #1].”

Brother-In-Law: “I’ll have a [Beer #2].”

(We all order about the same thing. The bartender gets out some six-ounce juice glasses and starts filling them with a draft beer we didn’t order; all our beers were bottles or cans.)

Brother-In Law: “Hey! I don’t know about the rest of you guys, but I haven’t had a drink all night! I’d like the beer I ordered, or at least a regular-sized draft!”

(We all agree.)

Bartender: *extremely angry* “THAT’S IT! Get out! ALL OF YOU! AND YOU—“ *looking directly at me* “—ARE A SMART A**!”

(We all looked confused and left. The next day, my husband returned, as he knew the owner. The owner told him the bartender reported that at 2:00 am, when she was cleaning up to close, a “bunch of rowdy kids” came in and she had to throw them out. My husband informed him that it was me, a paralegal and part-time bartender at [Bar], which is well known, him, a local business owner, his brother, a corporate attorney, his wife, and our friend, a transport company owner. As it was only midnight, we would have sat there and had a few each and tipped generously, but as we were treated so badly, we wouldn’t be back. Needless to say, I heard that bartender didn’t work there anymore after that. And that’s the one and only time in my life I’ve EVER been kicked out of a bar… because I was OLD ENOUGH TO DRINK, and proved it!)