Putting The “Cock” Into Cocktail

(I’m 19 and this is my first job in a bar. I’m competent and friendly but I struggle sometimes with complicated drinks or orders, meaning I go a little slower. This customer in question has been making nasty comments about me all evening, refusing to let anyone else serve him, and demanding complicated cocktails whilst berating my speed.)

Customer: “Given the last screw up, just get me a f****** Guinness.”

Me: “Sure.” *starts pouring*

Customer: *smirking* “If there’s no clover, you’ll be wearing it! It’s a lucky clover for a lucky guy!”

Me: “Let’s see what I can do.”

(I hand over his drink; cue spluttering and outrage.)

Customer: “How dare you?! I’ll have your f****** job! Don’t you know who I am?!”

Me: “Well, yes, that’s why I drew you a [man’s private region], as you said lucky clover for a lucky guy, or a d**k for a d**k-head.”

(My coworkers and the rest of those at the bar laughed so hard, the customer turned bright red and stormed off. He didn’t pay for his Guinness, but on a positive note, he never came back when I was on shift, either! And no, I wasn’t fired; my boss laughed and gave me a Guinness pint glass as a memento. It’s been eleven years and I still have it.)