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That’s It. You’ve Peaked.

, , , , , , | Right | CREDIT: InTheLoudHouse | July 29, 2021

I’m a woman in my twenties working behind the bar. I’m ringing in an order on the register when a man in his forties approaches.

Man: “Hey.”

I look up at him.

Man: “I’m picturing you naked right now.”

Me: “Oh? Are you impressed by my massive horse c**k?”

I have never seen a grown man rethink his existence so quickly. His friends laughed, many a swordfight joke was made, and I (hypothetically) won them all.

Nothing so satisfying will happen to me at work ever again. Where do we go from here?

Tune Into Some Delicious Musical Karma

, , , , , , | Right | CREDIT: BurnTheOil | July 17, 2021

I’m a bartender at a little hole-in-the-wall watering hole with a very regular and very loyal customer base. I have a night off, so I meet up with a friend at another bar for a few drinks and some food. After supper, we decide to walk to the bar where I work to cap off the evening.

We get there and there is a good energy going on. The music is a bit louder than usual, and there are maybe ten patrons in the bar.

We have one customer who is extremely wealthy, and it’s nothing for him to spend $200 to $400 per night multiple times a week buying everyone rounds. As such, he’s treated like royalty around there.

I’m sitting there having a really good time, enjoying a beer, and I decide that I want to add a song to the jukebox. I grab a $5 bill and walk over, only to notice sixty-three credits showing on the screen. No big deal, I think. I’ll just put my $5 in, request a few songs, and leave the sixty-three credits untouched.

But noooo.

Our wealthy regular sees me perusing the jukebox and comes up and physically pushes me away from it. I ask him what the f*** he thinks he’s doing. He says those are his credits, and no one is allowed to touch the jukebox until he’s used them up. I point out that I have my own $5 and no intention of using any of his credits.

Nope, not good enough. No one is allowed to touch it until he’s done with them.

I know it’s not worth arguing, so I step back, and he starts requesting songs until he has used up every single credit. Each song costs two to five credits, so he puts in a lot of songs. Each song gives you the option to pay an extra two credits to have your song played next, but I notice he isn’t using it.

This particular brand of jukebox has an accompanying phone app. I didn’t have it downloaded prior to this night. But I do now.

I calmly sit down at my table with my friend and put my plan in motion. I download the app and purchase $10 worth of credits. I request two songs and pay the extra two credits to fast track them. I sit there in quiet anticipation, and I can see that the regular is starting to get into a groove with the music he’d requested — Vietnam rock.

His heart gloriously sinks when Bom Bom Bom by Sam and The Womp comes on. No big deal, guys, his song must be next. Nope, it’s Wannabe by The Spice Girls.

He sits down, dejected. I quickly purchase another $20 in credits and request Baby by Justin Bieber, Livin’ La Vida Loca by Ricky Martin, Axel F by Crazy Frog, and Foil by Weird Al Yankovic.

And I fast track every one of them.

Partway through Foil, I notice the regular sulking in his chair… so I purchase another $20 in credits and proceed to request Never Going To Give You Up by Rick Astley, Who Let The Dogs Out (Barking Mad Remix) by the Baha Men, Numa Numa by O-Zone, Pas Parle Americano by Yolanda Be Cool, and Star Wars Cantina March by John Williams.

They’re starting to realize something is up, so the regular and a few staff who were on last night convene at the jukebox to try to figure it out. At this point, the Cantina March is playing. They turn the jukebox off and then back on again. “Doop doop doop doop…” They turn it off and then back on. “Doop doop doop doop…” Each time, it picks up where it left off. I can’t hold my laughter.

One of my coworkers catches on and comes over with her phone in her hand with the app open. She shoves it in my face with a “How f****** dare you…” Yadda, yadda, yadda.

I quietly get up, down my last mouthful of beer, put my jacket on, and walk out without a word. I walk down the street to a greasy spoon that our staff and customers are regulars at due to proximity. I sit down, order a beer and a burger, and proceed to log back into the app.

I purchase another $10 worth of credits and fast track All I Want For Christmas by Mariah Carey and Mickey by Tony Basil as one last “bite me” to the regular.

I can only imagine the fallout I’m going to face Monday afternoon when I show up to work, but whatever. My $40 are no less valid than his, and no one customer gets to commandeer the tunes for the entire night and physically block anyone else from touching it.

The Mother Of All Fake IDs

, , , | Right | July 8, 2021

I’m a doorman at a pretty cool neighborhood pub that has very popular dance nights that hit capacity every weekend. A young girl hands me an ID that I know is not her. I quiz her on when and why her hair is COMPLETELY different, birthday, middle name, address, etc.

Just when she and her two friends think they have convinced me, I invite her inside, telling her:

Me: “You’ve changed so much since we dated last year; also, your mother is up at the bar.”

Her face goes white.

Me: “I will give your sister’s ID to your mom.”

Her mom has been a regular for MANY years and the previous year had introduced me to her other daughter, hoping we’d get together, but we only dated for about a month.

The three girls took off running. I gave the ID to her mom, which ended up being a VERY long-running inside joke.

Throwing Around Stupidity And Wine

, , , , , , | Right | July 5, 2021

Customer: “I’ll have a beer and a large pinot.”

Me: “Red or white, sir?”

Customer: “Pinot. It’s a wine.”

Me: “Yes, sir. But pinot grigio is a white wine and pinot noir is a red one. If you really want to get technical, we also sell pinot blush, a rosé.”

Customer: “My wife only drinks white wine.”

Me: “Pinot grigio it is, then.”

I make his drinks and he pays and walks back to his table. A few seconds later, his wife approaches.

Customer’s Wife: “God. How stupid are you? My husband ordered pinot. P-I-K-N-O-T. Everyone knows pinot is a red wine.”

Me: “Well, actually, miss—”

I never did finish my sentence because she threw the wine over me.

Raising The Bar For Flirting

, , , , , , | Romantic | July 2, 2021

It’s January of 2009. I am a regular at a bar a few blocks from my house. One of the bartenders is absolutely eye-catching: tall, blonde, busty, leggy, and openly transgender. She gets hit on at least twenty times a night by drunk customers. I know she would resent it — and turn me down — if I were to go over to her and use spoken words to hit on her, so I devise a different plan.

I take one of my social cards — a card with my name, phone number, and email on it — and tuck it inside a written note.

My Note: “I have been admiring you and crushing on you for months. I can’t believe how well you handle all the drunks who say crude things about you. You are clearly kind, caring, patient, and good-hearted, as well as beautiful. If you’d like to contact me, feel free. My information is enclosed.”

I hand the note to the bar’s owner and tell her to pass it to the bartender in question when she gets off shift (which I know will be in a few minutes). The owner does so, and when the bartender reads it, I can see the owner pointing toward me. I leave after the game I’m watching is finished.

The next day, the owner passes me a note from the bartender.

Bartender’s Note: “If I wasn’t already in a relationship, I’d call you. Thanks for not being a jerk like the other dudes.” 

Fast forward to July of 2009. I’m sitting on a park bench watching people tossing Frisbees, kicking soccer balls, and picnicking, when my favorite bartender walks up along with a tall brunette. The brunette introduces herself as the bartender’s romantic partner.

Brunette: “Thank you for doing what you did when you did it. [Bartender] was going through a really rough mental health period, and having someone say nice things about her rather than just hearing drunks leer at her chest and legs helped get her back into a good mental state.”

As of now, they’re still together, and both are doing well now that the worst of the global health crisis has passed.