Genuine Door Service

, , , | Right | July 1, 2020

The legal age for selling alcohol is sixteen in The Netherlands, the same age at which you can drive a scooter. At my checkout, I get a customer who might or might not be sixteen, with a few bottles of alcoholic drinks.

Me: “Can I see some ID, please?”

The customer holds up a helmet.

Customer: “I drive a scooter, so I’m sixteen.”

Me: “That’s nice, but I still have to see some form of identification.”

Customer: “It got stolen. But I’m sixteen, so you have to sell it to me.”

Me: “I can’t sell it without any ID. I’m sorry. I’ll have to keep the bottles here until you provide me with your ID card or driver’s license.”

Customer: “I don’t f****** have it, you a**hole. I just told you; are you deaf? I demand to speak to your manager!”

Me: *Calling my manager* “I have a customer at my checkout who seems to have lost the way to the door. Could you come and help him?”

Customer: “That’s not what I f****** meant!”

Me: “I know, but you’re not getting it anyway, not without ID, and not with ID, either, because I think you’ve had enough already.”

The customer kept on screaming and shouting until my manager came along and took him out of the shop.

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Proof That Alcohol Ruins The Brain

, , , , | Right | June 24, 2020

Customer: “Can I have four shots of Fireball whiskey?”

Me: “Sure!”

Customer: “Can you make them really strong?”

Me: “…”

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In This Case, MOD Apparently Stands For Master Of Drunkenness

, , , , , , , | Working | June 22, 2020

During my younger days, I worked at the front desk of a hotel that, to say the least, has helped me appreciate all jobs that I had after it. Here is one fun story:

We have a night auditor that works Sunday night through Thursday night, 11:00 pm to 7:00 am, every week. He is nearly seventy years old. There is another position for someone to work this same shift on Friday and Saturday nights, which, as you can imagine, would be hard to keep filled, as it’s an overnight position with only two shifts. My boss has decided to hire a questionable person into this role, as he was the only applicant.

I am working the evening shift, 3:00 pm to 11:00 pm, and it has been a smooth evening thus far. Eleven comes and goes and the weekend night auditor does not show up. I call him multiple times with no answer and then call my manager to see what she wants me to do.

She explains that there are only three people that know how to do this work: the weekly night auditor, who we cannot call because we will mess up his sleep schedule and possibly cause more problems for ourselves; the weekend night auditor, who we currently cannot get ahold of; and one of our Managers-On-Duty that was just promoted out of the role and has already worked 9:00 am to 9:00 pm today.

My manager explains that I need to call the MOD and ask him if he can come in. 

I call him.

“[MOD], hey, listen, [Weekend Night Auditor] didn’t show up,” I explain. “Can you come to work?”

[MOD] is very obviously drunk as he responds, “WHAT’S UP, BUDDY?! OF COURSE, I’LL BE RIGHT THERE!”

He hangs up before I can say anything else and shows up a while later, blitzed as can be.

I call my manager again to see what she wants me to do, and she says we don’t have any other choice.

We then start doing the night audit, where everything was hilarious to [MOD] until about 3:00 am, where he takes on a more subdued demeanor. I essentially watch him go from being drunk all the way to a hangover, and he’s been awake for over twenty-four hours. I have also been up for nearly twenty-four hours by the end of the shift.

We are able to complete the work, and then I drive him home, as he can barely stay awake.

My boss does not fire the weekend night auditor, and this is not the last time that he doesn’t show up for a shift. More stories to come!

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You Booze, You Lose

, , , , | Right | June 18, 2020

My aunt is visiting us and my mom decides to take her and my uncle to our most tourist-trappy restaurant. It is a large steak joint that is located on a ranch, several miles out in the desert, and with no other buildings to be seen.

We arrive and are seated, but after about ten minutes, the table next to us starts arguing loudly with the waitress:

Angry Guy: “It’s bulls***! How hard is it to give me another drink?! You think I’m a bum who won’t pay or something?!”

Waitress: *Calmly* “No, sir. It’s just that since we know patrons have to drive to leave here, we limit how many alcoholic drinks they can have, and you’ve already had three.”

Angry Guy’s Wife: “He’s an adult! You can’t tell him what he can and can’t have! Get me your manager!”

The manager arrives and confirms what the waitress said. After some more arguing from the patrons, the manager actually tells them they can “get the f*** out.” They gather their stuff and leave, noticeably not leaving money for the drinks they have already received.

The waitress comes over to our table.

Waitress: “Whew! Sorry about that. Are you guys ready to order?”

Mom: “That was crazy! With how aggressive he was acting, I don’t think he needed any more booze in his system. He’d already had three before his food came. “

Aunt: “There were five other adults at the table. Couldn’t they have just ordered a drink and then given it to him?”

Waitress: “Technically, yes, there are no rules preventing that.”

Mom: “They didn’t pay; is that going to be a problem for you?”

Waitress: *Laughs* “Oh, no. We’re the only major business in the county so the police are always close by. He’ll pay, one way or another.”

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For Goodness’ Sake!

, , , , | Right | June 4, 2020

My brother and I are on a shopping trip together, which includes a stop at the local liquor store to pick up some sake. My brother is a few days short of his twenty-first birthday, and I’m twenty-four. After finding what I want, I come up to the checkout with my brother.

Cashier: “That’ll be [total], and I’ll need to see both of your IDs.”

Me: “Actually, my brother’s under twenty-one, but I’m twenty-four. This is for me.”

Cashier: “Uh, sorry, you both need to be twenty-one or over. You could be buying this for your underage brother. In fact, there’s a sign on the door that under-twenty-ones aren’t allowed in at all.”

Belatedly, I remember seeing the sign.

Me: “Well, crap.”

Brother: “So, out of all the drinks in the store my brother could try to buy for me, you think I’d go for sake?”

Cashier: “Unlikely, but still possible. But since you were honest about him being underage, I think you were telling the truth.”

He rings us up. As we leave the store, I turn to my brother.

Me: “You couldn’t have been born a week earlier?”

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