Unfiltered Story #148894

, | | Unfiltered | May 4, 2019

(I’m the bar manager at a Members Only Club for returned servicemen and thier families. I’ve just opened in the afternoon when 2 ladies walk in. I’ve served the first lady her drink who then goes to sit down and I start to discuss an up coming event with the second, when I see a small white dog trotting past the tables. As we serve food and drinks, service animals are the only animals allowed on the premises. )

Me: [ to Customer 1] Could you take the dog outside please?

Customer 1: What?

Me : You’re going to need to take your dog outside.

Customer 1: Oh, but he’s always come in with me.

(I see this lady in nearly every week, I’ve never seen the dog before)

Me : I’ve worked here for over 5 years and we’ve never allowed dogs inside.

Customer 1: Oh that’s because it’s when you’re not here.
(She laughs, trying to weakly defend herself, but knowing she’s been caught she happily takes the dog outside and comes back in to her drink)

(I turn back to the second customer who has her eyebrow raised. She knows as well as I that dogs aren’t allowed and that the bar manager before me was far meaner than I am!)

Unfiltered Story #148873

, , | | Unfiltered | May 3, 2019

(I work in a karaoke bar where the customers can come up to the bar and pay right away when they get their drinks. This guy who is really drunk goes to pay for his drink.)

Customer: Do you have tap? *Doesn’t wait and taps his Visa Card*
Me: *Facing away from him* No, because we can’t put the tip prompt –
*realizes he tapped anyway*
Customer: Oh, sorry!

(A couple minutes later a girl comes up with his card. Clearly his girlfriend)

Girlfriend: Hey! Can I get 2 shots and a coke?
Me: *mildly annoyed because of busy night and drunk guy*
Girlfriend: Thanks!

(The guy’s girlfriend goes to pay for the drinks, inserting the chip in bottom properly.
I finish making her drinks and I see she paid a 30% tip (double the amount considered generous where I work).)

Me: Wow, thank you!
Girlfriend: For my SO’s mistake!

Boy, Were They Wrong!

, , , , , , , | | Romantic | April 30, 2019

(I recently moved to the city from my hometown in the midwest for my new job. A small group of my new coworkers has taken me out to their favorite bar in an effort to welcome me. I’m telling everyone a little bit about of myself when I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn around and see a man I’ve never met before.)

Me: *confused* “Hello… Can I help you?”

Guy: “[My Name]? Is that really you? You look great!”

(Everyone is looking at me with puzzled looks on their faces. I honestly have no idea who this guy is, but I don’t want to be rude, either.)

Me: “I’m really sorry, but I’m not honestly recognizing who you are. Mind giving me a hint?”

Guy: “Oh, that hurts. It’s me, [Name Which Happens To Be Gender-Neutral], from high school.”

Me: *with a polite smile* “I’m sorry, but I think you must have me confused with someone else. I just moved to this area and I’m pretty sure we didn’t go to the same high school.”

Guy: “No, no, I remember you. You were pretty cute then, but d***, you’re hot now. Wish I made a better effort to get to know you better if this was how you were going to turn out.”

(He laughs it off as it’s not a big deal and tries to put his arm around me like we’re buddies. I’m getting a bit annoyed, but I simply just smile, instead.)

Me: “You said your name is [Gender-Neutral Name], right? Did you go by the same name back then?”

Guy: *a bit confused* “Well, my friends and I had nicknames for each other, but that’s what the teachers called me.”

Me: “You know what? I think it’s starting to come back to me. I remember someone named [His Name] at my school.”

Guy: “I knew you’d remember.”

Me: *with as much honesty and goodness I can muster* “Got to say I hardly recognized you. I mean, we all knew back then how uncomfortable you felt in your own skin, constantly saying you were a guy trapped in a girl’s body. I really felt bad about all the grief you got from the principal about wanting to attend prom in a tux rather than a dress, despite our entire class standing up for you. But I got to say you look amazing now – you’ve transitioned so well!”

Guy: *with a look of utter disgust and shouting* “What the f*** are you talking about? I ain’t no [homophobic slur]. I’m a real man!”

(With that, he leaves my table and me alone, with the entire table looking at me in utter confusion.)

Me: “Another fun fact about me is that I attended an all-girls high school for all four years — no boys allowed. So, when guys try that lame pick-up, it’s super easy to shoot them down.”  

(They all started cracking up. I was an instant member of their group from that point forward, and it made the transition to a new city much easier.)

It’s Not Even Just A Game To Them

, , , , , , , , | Right | April 12, 2019

I don’t have cable, and my favorite football team is playing their biggest rival on a Monday night, on cable. I go to my favorite sports bar which is down the block from our city’s downtown arena, where a big nu-metal concert is going on.

The bar is empty except for me, and in the third quarter a group of two older couples obviously coming from or going to the concert come in. They load the digital jukebox with nu-metal songs. The football commentary disappears and Disturbed songs take over.

The bartender, as invested in the game as I am — it’s an extremely close and hotly contested game, as games between these two teams tend to be — switches the audio feed back and offers the couples refunds.

For the remainder of the game, all four take up seats a foot behind me and loudly and vociferously decide they are adamant fans of my team’s rival. They’re not doing anything technically wrong that the bartender can kick them out for, but they’re being total jerks, including surrounding me to shout cheers for my team losing on a last-second field goal.

After I close out my tab, the bartender takes my pint glass, refills it to the brim, and leans in and says, “Kill that; don’t kill them,” and lets me keep the souvenir pint glass advertising my favorite seasonal beer.

Didn’t make the loss any better, but it helped deal with a group of real-life trolls.

Trouble Brewing Over The Matter Of Ownership

, , , | Right | March 27, 2019

(I run a small bar in western Washington. Since I regularly step in to help my employees, I’ve had plenty of the usual fare of customers with no ID, customers who look too young to drink, customers who’ve already had too much to drink, etc. This one, however, will always take the cake.)

Customer: “Pint of [local brew].”

Me: “Certainly. Can I just see your ID first?”

Customer: “No need. Pint of [local brew].”

Me: “I’m afraid there is a need, sir. You’re a handsome but young-looking kid, so I’ve got to check your ID.”

Customer: “Seriously? Do you know who I am?”

Me: “I’m afraid not; that’s why I’m asking.”

(The customer leans over the bar, pushing his face into mine.)

Customer: “I am a paying customer; that means I’m right! [Local brew], now, or how about I come around this bar and kick your d*** a** into the street? A few words to your boss and he’ll fire you on the spot for losing this place my money!”

Me: “I see. Unfortunately, I’m afraid there’s one fatal flaw in your logic there.”

Customer: “Yeah? What’s that?”

Me: “I own this place, meaning it’s up to me to decide who is and is not a paying customer. You haven’t bought anything, and you refuse to show me ID; therefore, you’re not a customer. Also, you’re threatening me, which means you’re not welcome in here anymore, either.”

(The customer’s bravado starts to falter and his face pales as I pull out my phone.)

Me: “So, how about you leave now before I call the police? That way no one has to be kicked into the street.”

Customer: “But… you… gah! You don’t look smart enough to be the owner!”

Me: “Sir, please leave and stop making this worse for yourself.”

(I started dialing the police, while the man thankfully wised up and exited the premises.)

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