Very Fluid Parenting

, | AB, Canada | Right | March 1, 2017

(I am a server at a restaurant where one side is family dining and the other is 18+ only, the drinking age in Alberta. Each side, while under the same roof, has completely different entrances, the sports bar clearly marked in bold letters – NO MINORS, 18+. A party of five brings in a very young baby in a child seat into the sports bar.)

Me: “I’m sorry, but this is an adult’s-only bar. No one under 18 is allowed.”

Customer: “It’s okay; she’s only a few months old.”

Me: “It’s actually illegal for your child to be in this part of the restaurant. It’s only for adults. You are more than welcome to try the other side. They have the same channels and sports playing over there.”

Customer: *scoffs and rolls her eyes at me* “It’s not like I’m going to give her any alcohol!”

Me: *very slowly* “I’m sorry, ma’am, but you cannot have your BABY in a BAR!”

(She got flustered and then just muttered something to me as she and her baby left the bar, with the rest of her friends slowly following, looking embarrassed.)

Tapas On Tap

, | UK | Right | February 15, 2017

(We’re a tapas bar, so lots of small portions. We usually recommend two-three per person. Tonight, we’ve got a lot of bookings but can sometimes fit people in for limited slots of time. Two customers come in without a reservation, and it’s around 6:30 pm.)

Me: “Well, I can fit you in now, but I’m afraid we’ll need the table back by 7:30.”

Customer #1: “That’s loooads of time. We’re only getting something light.”

Me: “Okay, here you go!” *hands over tapas menu*

(A few minutes later, I approach for drinks.)

Customer #1: “A bottle of [Wine], please.”

Me: “A bottle… Okay!”

(A few more minutes later.)

Me: “And can I take a food order?”

Customer #2: “Yeah, so I’m like really hungry so I’m going to have like everything.” *laughs maniacally and lists almost everything, about seven items*

Customer #1: “Oh, he is hungry! Okay I’ll just have [five more items].”

Me: “…no problem.”

(Their “something light” turned into me having to squeeze extra chairs onto a tiny table for an actual booking because, of course, these two hadn’t left in time.)

Raising The Joke

| QLD, Australia | Working | February 14, 2017

(We’re at one of our weekly team lunches at a pub near our office. By this point, several colleagues have gone back to the office. Two of my workmates are at the far end of the table are talking, and I’m discussing baby names with another one. This colleague is a single mother.)

Me: “On another note, [Colleague], my wife and I will be going for a baby in a few months. Given that you’re a mother, I was wondering if I could ask you for advice—”

(At this point, she starts cracking up laughing, bent double over the table. I’m just able to make out what she says next.)

Colleague: “Advice on making the baby?”

Me: “That’s not what I meant! I should have phrased that better.”

(She nods, still laughing.)

Me: “I meant advice on raising the baby. You didn’t let me finish.”

Colleague: *still laughing* “Of course you can.”

(Once the laughter has subsided, I check that the other two workmates haven’t heard. They hadn’t.)

Me: “Please don’t tell anyone else about this.”

Colleague: *jokingly* “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone who knows you.”

The Date Doesn’t Jar Jar Stinks

| Atlanta, GA, USA | Romantic | January 28, 2017

(I’m meeting a guy for a date at a bar that has a lot of old arcade games. When he arrives, we end up going into the other room where there is a Star Wars: The Phantom Menace pinball machine.)

Date: “Okay, THAT needs to be burned!”

(I like this guy already.)

Can Only Get It Back If You Can Say “Mjölnir” While Intoxicated

| Oxford, England, UK | Learning | January 27, 2017

(I’m working as a bartender in a university college bar. All the other bartenders are not students, so sometimes customers don’t realize that I am. The student body is holding a theme party in the bar, so it’s very busy, but I spot a particular student is carrying and waving around a steel-headed claw hammer as part of his costume. Fortunately, he came to me to order his drink.)

Student: “I’d like a pint of [Cheap Beer].”

Me: “Sure, I’d be happy to serve you that, but first: could I ask you to either leave that hammer in your room, or hand it over to us to keep behind the bar? It’s a dangerous weapon, and I wouldn’t like anyone to get hurt tonight. You can have it back when the party’s over.”

Student: “What? I can’t take it back to my room! The party’s here!”

Me: “Well, I’m sure you live on site, but if you don’t feel like going back to your room, you can hand it over to me and I’ll take care of it for the rest of the night. Otherwise, I’m going to refuse to serve you and will insist that you leave the bar.”

Student: “Fine, I’ll leave it in my room.”

(He leaves for a few minutes, but I see him again later – with the hammer sticking out of his back pocket. I’m still not happy with him carrying an offensive weapon around the bar surrounded by drunk people, even if he’s no longer actively waving it in people’s faces. He approaches the bar, and I ask my colleagues not to serve him unless he surrenders the hammer. My colleagues repeat this to him, and again, he refuses. I spot a graduate student volunteer responsible for low-level disciplinary action, inform him about the situation, and ask him to speak to the student for me. He comes back.)

Grad Student: “He said he didn’t have a hammer on him.”

Me: “Look, you can see it now; the handle’s sticking out of his back pocket. He was lying to you.”

(The graduate student shrugs and walks off. Taking action into my own hands, I sneak up behind the student and take the hammer from his back pocket.)

Me: “I’m confiscating this.”

Student: “What? Give it back! That’s mine!”

Me: “You were warned on three separate occasions by three members of staff that this was a dangerous weapon and not permitted down in the bar. You refused to leave it in your room or behind the bar where it would be safe. Instead, I’ve seen you waving it around all evening, surrounded by drunk people. Now I’m going to hand it over to [Campus Security], and if you really want it back, you can try explaining to them in the morning what you were doing with a claw hammer in a bar full of drunks.

(The student turned pale and ran off. I don’t know if he ever tried to get the hammer back, but I would’ve loved to have seen that conversation!)

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