Pound Some Beers, Not The Staff

(I’m hostessing at a restaurant near a very well-known theater and we have just emptied out after a massive rush. We ran out of a certain beer and in midst of the craziness, we forgot to take down signs on our revolving door advertising the said beer we ran out of. A group of loud intoxicated people come in the revolving door. With some back and forth — I have trouble understanding them — I finally get them seated at a table.)

Me: *to their server* “Heads up, they’re really drunk.”

Server: “Got it, thanks.” *the servers determine if intoxicated people can be served or not*

(He heads over to the table. The next thing I know, one of the drunkest, burliest men is yelling at the server and I catch “sign” and “door” and the name of the beer we ran out of.)

Server: *to me as he walks quickly to get a manager* “He’s upset because we don’t have that beer were advertising on the door.”

(The manager goes over and apologizes for our mistake and explains we are just bouncing back from a packed house that had an hour-plus wait. The drunk angry man stands up and starts swearing, and my equally burly manager kind of guides him to the door and asks him to leave. The drunk guy keeps screaming about false advertisement and then starts RIPPING off all the signs in the revolving door, as he’s going through it.)

Manager: *while the few remaining guests stare* “Well, at least he saved us the trouble of taking them off that door.”

(Luckily we all got a good chuckle, especially at the immaturity of that man.)