All Eyes On Me

, , , , | Working | December 15, 2017

(I am trying to get into a bar and the bouncer has stopped me to check my ID.)

Bouncer: “Is this you? It doesn’t look like you”

Me: “It’s really me.”

Bouncer: “What is your name?”

(I tell him.)

Bouncer: “What is your address?”

(I tell him.)

Bouncer: “What is your birthdate?”

(I tell him.)

Bouncer: “What colour are your eyes?”

(I start to answer but he interrupts.)

Bouncer: “Wait, no cheating!” *he covers my eyes with his hand*

Me: “Wait, did you just cover my eyes so I can’t see what colour they are?”

Bouncer: “Yes.”

Mixing With A Bad Crowd

, , , | Right | December 8, 2017

(I’ve recently moved to a small town in Texas and I’ve started working at a country club that also has a bar. I don’t work in the bar, but I know the general workings of it since the whole place is so small. One afternoon the regular bartender can’t find anyone to cover the bar for her so she asks me to work. She tells me the basics and everything seems good. The problem is that she has lived in this town her whole life and has worked here for almost 20 years, and therefore knows everyone’s names and families, and exactly what everyone drinks. This becomes a problem, because I don’t.)

Me: “Hello, sir. What can I get you?”

Customer #1: “Oh, I’ll just have my usual.”

Me: “All right, and what would that be?”

Customer #1: *sigh* “My usual. Are you deaf, girl?”

Me: “No, sir, I just haven’t learned everyone’s drinks yet. I’m sorry.”

Customer #2: *sitting next to him* “He always gets [Drink].”

(I go to make the drink and I grab the glass I was told to use for that type of drink.)

Customer #1: “No, no, no! That’s the wrong glass! I always have the other glass!”

(I grab the other glass, fill it with ice, and go to put the liquor in first.)

Customer #1: “No! The soda always goes in first!”

(It really doesn’t make any difference, but I put in the soda anyway and grab the liquor again.)

Customer #1: “I hate that liquor; I always drink [Other Liquor]! And don’t forget my lime and olives!”

(At this point, it’s not even the same drink that he ordered, and I’ve never seen limes or olives in this type of drink, but I finish the drink and hand it to him.)

Customer #1: “Finally! That took way too long; they should fire you! [Bartender] always has it ready when I walk in. Where is [Bartender]?”

Me: “She has the day off today; it’s her granddaughter’s birthday.”

Customer #1: “Well, I don’t give a d***! She should be here so I don’t have to wait all day for a drink!”

(The bartender apologized the next day for forgetting to warn me about him and said that he was notorious for being difficult and everyone just kind of ignores him.)

Pride Goeth Before The Bigot

, , , , , , , | Friendly | December 8, 2017

(My friend is at a gay bar during Pride Weekend in Canada. While there, a rather douchey American guy tries repeatedly to hit on her. She tells him several times that she isn’t interested but he keeps trying. Eventually, he stumbles over to her, quite drunk, and says loudly:)

Guy: “Hey, have you noticed how many [homophobic slur]s there are in here?!”

(A few people around him give really weird stares.)

Friend: “Er… What do you expect? It’s Pride Weekend.”

Guy: “Pride Weekend? What the f*** is that s***?”

Friend: “Well, it’s a weekend for LGBTQ people to celebrate being themselves.”

Guy: “What’s LBTGQ?”

(A couple of her friends laugh loudly at this.)

Friend’s Friend: “Sweetie, take a look around; you’ll have your answer!”

(Almost immediately the guy’s eyes bulge out of his skull.)

Guy: “WHAT? YOU MEAN I’M GONNA BE STUCK HERE WITH [SLUR]S ALL WEEKEND?! THAT’S F****** SICK! THAT GUY SET ME UP!”

(He bolted outside. My friend later saw him yelling into his phone at someone about how they had “set him up.” My friend and her buddies had a good laugh about it. Can’t imagine that guy made too many friends that weekend.)

Can’t March To The Beat Of That Drum

, , , , , , , | Friendly | November 30, 2017

(I go by myself to a rock show at a well-known venue, and I am having what seems to be a friendly conversation with strangers before it starts.)

Stranger #1: “Do you play anything?”

Me: “Guitar and piano, a bit.”

Stranger #1: “Always wanted to learn those ones. I just did saxophone in high school.”

Stranger #2: *butting in, but it’s cool* “I did drums in high school then came back to it in my 20s. Been in love with it for years, now.”

Stranger #1: “That’s awesome! What made you pick it back up again?”

Stranger #2: “My love for John Bonham! John Bonham was the best drummer that ever lived; I can’t get enough of listening to him and he inspires me so much!”

Me: “Bonham, eh? I’ve heard so many people rave about him; since you’re clearly a big fan, and a drummer, can I ask a question about him that I’ve had burning for years?”

Stranger #2: “Okay.”

Me: *being so careful to be polite and respectful* “Can you explain to me what it was about Bonham’s drumming that grabs you? Can you specify the things he did that stand out? I only ask because I’ve listened to Zeppelin a lot and, while he’s good, of course, my untrained ear can’t really figure out what it is about his playing that sets him apart. I’m no slouch musically, but I’m also not a drummer.”

Stranger #2: *angry silence, glowering at me*

Me: “I’m asking completely seriously, because I want to understand! I know I’m missing something when I listen to him, and I’m just asking you, since you seem to be someone who gets it.”

Stranger #2: *still silence, clearly offended*

Me: “Please, I’m really not trying to argue or anything; I’m asking completely seriously.”

Stranger #2: *argumentatively* “He’d start playing for hours before their concerts, and then afterwards the other guys would go party, and he’d keep playing for hours!”

Me: “Well… That’s dedication to his craft, which is good. But I mean more like technique, etc.”

Stranger #2: *angrier still, storms off with her couple friends*

Stranger #1: *awkwardly moves away from me and doesn’t interact with me the rest of the night*

(I’ve since found other drummers and online sources that do a good job of explaining rock drums prior to Bonham and how his style changed rock drums for pretty much everyone afterwards. No one else I talked to was offended that I asked.)

When Toxic Personalities Become Intoxicated

, , | Nashville, TN, USA | Learning | November 30, 2017

THROWBACK THURSDAY! Check out this awesome story that you may have missed! What’s a memorable deli experience you’ve had? Let us know in the comments!

 

(I am bartending at a neighborhood dive that caters mostly to a set of regulars who were minimum wage or blue collar workers, but occasionally some of the kids from an expensive nearby university would wander in. I am talking to a female regular at the bar who happens to be seated next to a young guy from the college.)

Me: “Hey, did you check out that show I told you about?”

Regular: “Yeah, thanks, it was really funny!”

(We are discussing episodes, when a college kid joins in.)

College Guy: “Hey, I love that show! What season are you up to?”

(For a few minutes, we all engage in friendly conversation until, suddenly, a spoiled and VERY intoxicated college girl in a miniskirt and six-inch heels proceeds to shove my female regular in the back.)

College Girl: “Hey, b****!”

Regular: *calmly turns on her barstool to look at the girl*

College Girl: “Quit talking to my boyfriend, you stupid w****!”

Regular: “Miss, we were just having a polite conversation.”

College Girl: “You think you can steal my boyfriend, you ugly b****?” *she shoves the regular’s shoulder for emphasis* “Stupid f***ing s***! You wanna try and steal my boyfriend?”

Regular: “Miss, I’m afraid you’ve misunderstood. I have a boyfriend of my own.” *untucks a set of dog-tags from her shirt as proof* “I wasn’t hitting on your boyfriend; we were just having a nice chat. Please calm down.”

College Girl: “You think you can just hit on my boyfriend, you f***ing s***? F*** you, you fat ugly b****!”

(She shoves the regular again, and by now I am furiously trying to flag down the bouncer. The bar has gone quiet, and the girls’ friends have nervously gathered behind her to watch the spectacle.)

Regular: “Miss, please do not touch me again.”

College Girl: “You wanna start something, b****? You wanna start something with me? Come on, you stupid w****!”

(Another shove, and this time the regular stands from her stool.)

Regular: “Miss, I’ve asked you nicely, but now I’m telling you. Do. Not. Touch. Me. Again.”

College Girl: “Let’s go, w****! I’ll f*** you up!”

(Mid-sentence, she tries to shove my regular again, but this time the regular catches the college girl’s arm and delivers a powerful right cross to her face, knocking her out cold. The regular watches the drunk college girl drop to the floor like a sack of potatoes, then sits back down on her barstool and turns back to the bar. The college girl’s friends proceed to pick the woozy girl up off the ground in time for bouncer to escort them all to the parking lot.)

Regular: *to the bouncer* “Me, too?”

Bouncer: “H***, no! I saw the whole thing, girl! You sit your a** back on that stool and order a beer on me.”

(The regular and I exchange smiles as I pull her usual up from the cooler. It’s at this point that we both notice that the college guy who was the cause of the whole mess looking at the regular with his jaw on the floor.)

Regular: “Hey, man, sorry about your girlfriend, but I did warn her.”

College Guy: “Okay, let me stop you right there. That was not my girlfriend. I had never even met that girl before tonight. I have no idea what the h*** she was talking about. And that was one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen. So the bouncer can get the next round, but that one’s on me.”

(One of the girl’s friends ended up coming back in and apologizing for her pal’s erratic behavior, and offered to buy a round for my regular, too. After that night, every regular in the place usually bought one for ‘One-Punch’ whenever she came in, until she moved away to marry her soldier boyfriend!)

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