73 Reasons To Get Your ID

, , , , | Right | November 7, 2017

(My grandma worked as a convenience store clerk from her early 60s until she was well into her 70s. I am visiting, and she has to work one of the days of my visit, so I take her to work so I can borrow her car for the day. I get there just before the end of her shift to pick her up, and I am hanging around when a customer brings a 12-pack of beer up to the counter.)

Grandma: “Good afternoon! Can I see your ID?”

Customer: “Aw, man, what? I’m 32!”

Grandma: “I saw you drive up, and you know you’re required to have your license with you when you drive, so let’s see it.”

Customer: “Yeah, it’s in the glovebox. You’re going to make me go out and get it? I really am 32!”

Grandma: “Well, sir, I’m not that good at judging ages. I’m an old lady; you all look like babies to me!”

Customer: “Aw, c’mon, you’re not that old.”

Grandma: “Tell you what. You guess how old I am, and if you get within five years, then I’ll take your word for how old you are.”

Customer: “Okay! I’d say you’re… mid-fifties. If I have to be specific… 54.”

(Grandma reaches in the pocket of her uniform shirt and pulls out her own license.)

Grandma: “I’m 73!”

Customer: *pauses* “I guess I’ll go get my license, then.”

(He actually did go get it, and he really was 32! Grandma told me later that she did that all the time to cut off the argument, and nobody had ever guessed over 60. Today, she’s 94 and could pass for a spry 75, with less than half of her hair gone to gray.)

Arkansas That Coming

, , , , , , | Right | November 6, 2017

(In Arkansas there are “dry counties” where no alcohol is sold. While returning home from a long drive along I-40, I stop at a gas station in one of these “dry counties.” The cashier is ringing up my order when a man cuts in line to ask a question. He is clearly from out of state.)

Customer: “Where is the beer?”

Cashier: “I’m sorry, sir, but we don’t sell alcohol in this county.”

Customer: “You’re kidding me. Are you all a bunch of redneck hicks or something in Arkansas? It’s just beer! That’s crazy!”

Cashier: “I’m sorry, sir; it’s the law. We’re a dry county. In about 15 miles, Pulaski County is a wet county.”

Customer: “You’re all a bunch of idiots! I shouldn’t have to drive that far. It’s just beer!”

Cashier: “I’m sorry I can’t help you. You will have to drive about 15 miles.”

Customer: “Fine, a**hole!” *storms out the door*

Cashier: *to me* “I’m sorry about that. Will that be all?”

Me: “You realize it’s Sunday, right?”

(No alcohol can be sold in all of Arkansas on Sunday in any county.)

Cashier: “Oh, crap! That’s right!”

(To this day, I’m not sure if he was being sarcastic or not.)

Giving You Something To Wine About

, , , , , , , | Right | November 1, 2017

(I’m working the closing shift at a drugstore. About an hour before we close, the manager notices someone has been in the women’s restroom for about half an hour. The manager goes to talk to her, and this happens:)

Manager: *knocking on door* “Ma’am, are you okay?”

Lady In Bathroom: “UHH!”

Me: “What’s going on?”

Manager: “She won’t talk to me. I’m going to call the police.”

(A sheriff’s deputy arrives shortly after.)

Officer: *knocking on door* “This is the police. Is everything all right?”

Lady In Bathroom: “UHH!”

(The police officer entered to investigate, and the lady was taken out of the store on a stretcher. I thought she might have just gotten sick, but after closing, while I was cleaning the bathrooms, there was vomit everywhere and I found a half-empty box of wine next to the toilet that the lady must’ve stolen off the shelf before drinking in the bathroom.)

One More Round Of Rudeness

, , , , , | Right | October 28, 2017

(I am at my sister’s wedding and the venue has done a really good job. Everyone has had a great time and most of us are pretty drunk. There’s only a few still left at the end of the night, including my siblings, my dad, and me. The staff are just starting to tidy up, as the party has wound down and it’s late. My dad decides to try and get a last round of drinks in before we all go to bed. Unfortunately, he can be more than a little rude when he doesn’t get what he wants.)

Dad: “Hi, can I get three beers, three gin and tonics, and four whiskeys?”

Bar Staff: “I’m sorry, sir; we’ve closed out the register for the night. We can’t sell anymore.”

Dad: “Don’t give me that! We’ve all spent a huge amount of money at this wedding today, and all we’re asking for is one last round.”

Bar Staff: “I understand, but the register is now shut down for the night, the money has been taken out, and the credit card reader has been shut down for the day’s business.”

Me: “It’s okay, bud; we understand.”

Dad: “No! It’s not okay! I’m asking politely—” *he’s not* “—for another round, after we’ve spent all this money today, feeding their wages.”

Me: “Dad, they’ve closed the register for the day, which means they physically can’t sell anymore until they open it again tomorrow. It keeps the day’s takings straight and separates business days. See?”

Dad: “I don’t care about any of that. We’ve spent so much money!”

(This goes round and round a few times. The bar manager gets involved and the whole exchange repeats itself. Eventually my dad decides to stagger off to bed.)

Dad: “I’m going to see that you get a bad review on [Video Website]. Yeah, you’ll get a bad review on [Video Website].”

(I think he meant [Review Website].)

Me: “Sorry about that, guys. Don’t listen to him; he’s pretty drunk. Listen, you guys did a great job. Everybody had a great time and you didn’t miss a beat. So, thank you!”

Bar Manager: “Thanks for saying that. We’re not allowed to sell anymore, so how about a round on the house?”

(It pays to be nice!)

Trouble Brewing

, , , , , , , | Related | October 28, 2017

We lived about four blocks from our elementary school. Our cousins lived about half a block from us. We all would walk home together after school. One day, we came across an unopened beer can on the dirt road shortcut and decided to play kick-the-can the rest of the way home.

About two houses away from our cousins’ home, the can hit a rock and began spraying all five of us.

We had to explain to both mothers what happened. At least they were able to laugh about our stupidity, so we didn’t get into trouble for coming home smelling like a brewery… that time!

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