(We have been seated at a restaurant and a waitress takes our orders. When she comes back with our drinks, she puts a soda water in front of me.)

Me: “I ordered a beer.”

Waitress: “But you’re the designated driver.”

Me: “No. None of us are. We’re taking a taxi.”

(It’s clear she doesn’t believe me, and she doesn’t come back over until our food is ready. I ask again, and she reiterates her point that I am the designated driver. I ask for the owner and we explain the situation.)

Owner: “If you are the designated driver, why would you order an alcoholic drink?”

Me: “That’s the thing. I’m not. We got a taxi over, and we’re taking one back. I haven’t even got my keys with me.”

Owner: *to the waitress* “Who told you he was their driver?”

Waitress: “I did.”

Owner: “Don’t you think that is an issue if you pick the wrong person?”

Waitress: *clueless* “No.”

(The owner apologises and offers a discount. We are seen by a more competent waitress and we don’t see our original waitress until we leave and are getting into our taxi. She runs out, dragging the owner.) 

Waitress: “YOU SEE! I TOLD YOU HE WAS…”

(She realised her fault and fled back into the restaurant. The owner facepalmed and apologised to us again. While I couldn’t really fault our new waitress or the owner — with perhaps the exception of hiring that waitress — we have not been back.)

(I am working behind the bar when a customer asks me to show him our list of red wines. I show him our selection.)

Customer: “Do you have the Sauvignon Blanc?”

Me: “Yes, sir, in the white.”

Customer: “No, I want it in the red.”

Me: “Sir, I’m afraid that Sauvignon Blanc comes only as a white wine, hence the name… blanc.”

Customer: “Actually, there is a red Sauvignon Blanc. I should know; I’ve had it before.”

Me: “Sir, I’m sorry but there really is no such wine. If it’s a Cabernet Sauvignon or a Sangiovese you’re after, then I could offer you a red, but since ‘blanc’ means ‘white,’ I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do.”

(He had a merlot and stormed off telling his wife how stupid I was.)

Related:
I’m Drawing A Blanc

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In Ohio this weekend, there is a huge country concert. People from all around attend this thing, and usually, we get a few rowdy people.

A customer comes in, and thank God he isn’t driving, as he is loaded. He also comes in with a kid, who is nice and buys his own stuff. The older guy, though, is throwing a fit.

Customer:
“What the h***? I can’t find your f****** beer!”

Keep in mind that he’s at least five feet from the cooler door.

Me:
“What do you mean?”

Customer:
“Well, I’m from Tennessee, and we keep our beer in the coolers!”

Me:
“Well, guess what? In Ohio, we do, as well, and if you turn your head just a little bit, son of a gun, there’s beer! Wow, it’s a Tennessee miracle!”

I was a customer in a chain restaurant and was seated at the bar. A customer near me ordered a cocktail. The bartender/waitress made the cocktail and the customer took a sip and complained it was too sweet. The bartender/waitress apologized and explained she had had to look up how to make that drink and offered to make a different cocktail.

The customer ordered a different cocktail, a common one, and the bartender/waitress made it and gave it to the customer, who was satisfied.

The customer and dining companions then decided to move from the bar to a table for dinner. As they were moving, the customer left the too-sweet drink on the bar, and her dining companion noticed and said, “Drink it anyway! You can’t throw away alcohol; it’s against my religion!”

Where I am, the law states that stores can only sell beer and wine up until 11:00 pm, and the registers will refuse all sales at 11:00 on the dot — they won’t even scan at that point until 8:00 am — and at 9:00 we lock the door so people can only be buzzed in or out. One night, at 10:50, two guys come in, of age, asking about what beer is on sale.

Me: “We have [lists brands], but you have less than nine minutes to get it to the register; otherwise, I can’t sell it to you.”

Customer #1: “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

The customer is clearly not listening. I go about my business tidying things up and doing my job. I see it’s now 10:55. They’re still looking at different beers, picking up the cases, looking at the prices, discussing, just taking their time, so I go into the beer fridge.

Me: “Hey, guys, if you want beer, you have to grab it now and come to the register. At 11:00 exactly, the registers don’t allow any sale of alcohol; it’s out of my control.”

Customer #1: “Yeah, yeah.”

Customer #2: “Hey, man, we’re deciding; just give us a minute.”

As they say this, other customers come in for random snacks, soda, cigarettes, etc., and I vaguely forget why the original two customers are in. They finally decide on a case after another five minutes, and when they come to the register, there are three people ahead of them. I see this, and when finishing with the first customer I let them know:

Me: “Hey, guys, I can’t sell you that. Please either put it back or put it down, and you can buy anything else, but both legally and literally, I cannot sell that to you until 8:00 am tomorrow.”

They don’t respond and just roll their eyes. They finally make it to the cash, and I’m hoping (incorrectly) that it’ll be easy.

Customer #1: “Hey! So, just this, and two packs of cigarettes!”

Me: “Two packs of cigarettes coming right up!” 

As I say this, I grab the case of beer, put it on the floor behind the register, and turn to grab what they asked for.

Customer #2: “Hey, man, that’s not funny. Give us our beer.”

Me: “I told you multiple times and was nice enough to warn you when you had five minutes. You’re well past the cut-off point of buying beer.”

Customer #1: “You didn’t say s***, you f****** a**hole! You’re gonna give us our beer for free now for this or I’m going to jump over that counter and f****** kill you.”

I’m used to angry people by now, so the second he got belligerent I hit the silent alarm, and the police station is literally across the street, so within seconds I can see three officers walk out the front steps and cross the street, headed straight for our door.

Me: “Our cameras record sound, too. And kudos to you if you can reach me before they reach you.”

I pointed to the officers moving very quickly towards us. It very quickly turned into the most bizarre cat-and-mouse game inside the store I’ve ever seen, with one of the idiots trying to run full speed, arms outstretched, into a pull door laughing, thinking he was making it home free.

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