(I get a flirtatious text from my girlfriend addressed to someone else. I text her back pretending to be this other person, and find out she has been cheating on me. Still oblivious that she’s actually texting me, I suggest we meet up at a local bar, where we can laugh over how stupid her boyfriend, me, is. An hour later at the bar…)

Me: “Oh, hey, [Girlfriend]!”

Girlfriend: “[My Name]? What are you doing here?”

Me: “I wanted a drink. What about you? Weren’t you going to that play with your sister tonight?”

Girlfriend: “Yeah, it ended early. Um, I just remembered I forgot my purse at her place. I gotta go back.”

Me: “Aren’t you carrying your purse?”

Girlfriend: “My other purse.”

Me: “You took two purses?”

Girlfriend: “Yeah, I gotta go. See you later, babe!”

Me: “Okay! Tell your other boyfriend I said hi!”

(The look on her face was priceless.)

(I take my brother to the pub. He goes to get the first round, which includes a Coke.)

Brother: “Can I have [drinks] and a Coke, please.”

Bartender: “Is Pepsi okay?”

Brother: “Is Monopoly money okay?”

Bartender: “Right, get out. You’re barred.”

(He was allowed to stay after paying a fine into the tip-jar.)

(I am on bar and our TV has CNN on, at multiple customers’ requests. I am making a mojito when this happens.)

Customer #1: “What is that cocktail called?”

Me: “A mojito, sir.”

Customer #1: “Oh, one of them there foreign girly drinks.”

Customer #2: “Excuse me?”

(Customer #2 is a woman, but had ordered hers with double the amount of rum I usually put in it.)

Customer #1: “You heard me! Foreign crap! And all these immigrants need to go the hell home! Stealing American jobs!”

(I am of Southeast Asian descent and all my regulars know where I was born, ie. not America.)

Me: “Well, sir, I guess I’ll be off home, then!”

Customer #1: “Well… no, not you…”

Me: “Why not?”

Customer #1: “Well, you’re smart! I like you!”

Me: “Oh, thank goodness. I’m so glad I can stay! With my husband! And my green card!”

Customer #2: *as I hand her her mojito* “Hey, give him a taste of this.”

(I pour some into a rocks glass and hand it to Customer #1. He takes a sip and his eyes BULGE.)

Customer #2: “[My Name], my girly drink tastes fabulous!” *she makes a show of putting some money in my tip jar* “And you, [Customer #1], let me know when you’re getting your plane ticket back to Ireland.”

(They were all regulars and all knew each other. Customer #2 knew Customer #1 was of proud Irish descent and showed off every St Patrick’s Day. Customer #1 was completely quiet the rest of the time he was there, and left a decent tip. I bought Customer #2 a shot when Customer #1 had left.)

(Our pub closes at one am, by law, and closing time always comes as a rude shock to our punters. Every weekend night we have people bugging us for “just one more.”)

Customer: “But I just want one more! C’mooonnnn! Just for me?”

Colleague: *as we’re cleaning up* “Dude, we’re closed. End of story.”

Customer: “But how can I get another drink? I just want another drink!”

Colleague: *singing/shouting* “Tomorrow! Tomorrow! We’re open tomorrow! It’s only a day awaaaaay!”

(I miss the things you could get away with in a pub environment…)

Customer: “What is in your gold margarita?”

(I tell her and she orders one. Five minutes later…)

Customer: “This has a very rustic taste to it.”

Me: “You don’t like it?”

Customer: “It’s like… rustic.”

Me: “Is it too sour? Or too sweet?”

Customer: “It’s very rustic.”

(We go around and around like this until I determine what she means to say is “metallic.”)

Customer: “Drink it and see what I mean. Get a straw.”

Me: “I’m not going to do that, sorry. I’ll make you a new one or something different though.”

(I am visibly pregnant, I should add.)

Customer: “Honey, it’s not going to kill you. You should be tasting every drink you send out. Your baby will be fine. Get a straw.”

Me: “I will make you a new margarita.”

Customer: “Taste it first. We gotta work something out here because I can’t drink rustic things.”

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