I work as a bartender at a nightclub in New York City. Two fellows with thick European accents come up to the bar, and one asks in all earnestness:

Customer: “Two lines of Coke, please.”

I just stare at him for a couple of seconds. Yup, he’s serious.

Me: “Coke… Uh… cola?”

Customer: “No, to sniff.”

He then does a little mime demonstration for me to really drive home what is by now abundantly clear.

Me: “Ah, I see; you’re an idiot. Go get arrested somewhere else.”

When my father was in the US Air Force in the 1960s, he came down with an infection that required him to be hospitalized. His roommate was a deserter who was serving time in a military prison and consequently had a Military Police officer guarding the door at all times.

One night, my father got up and tried to leave the room.

MP: “Where the f*** do you think you’re going?”

Dad: “Um, the bathroom.”

MP: “The h*** you are, [Prisoner]!”

It turned out that when the shift changed, the new guard didn’t know which patient he was supposed to be watching, so he asked the prisoner. The prisoner pointed to my sleeping father and quickly left the hospital. While my father was easily able to prove his identity, I’m sure the MP had an interesting story to tell his superiors. “But he said he WASN’T my prisoner!”

When my acquaintance’s father-in-law died, she still had his disability placard and used it for parking on campus. She told me this, and I guess my expression was less than pleasant, so she tried to justify it.

Acquaintance: “I’m such a busy mom with so little time!”

Me: “What about the people whose space you took who actually need that space? Can you imagine how little time they have? Now they can’t go to class because they can’t walk the distance from the parking you made them use to their class building.”

I still remember having to drop my dad off on campus because trucks would use the disability-accessible spots for unloading at his office. The building parking lot was at the bottom of a steep hill, and my dad had just had a heart attack, so he was not allowed to walk up the hill at that point.

Just be glad you don’t need the d*** accessible spot.

My restaurant and bar used to have a cop hang out around closing time just to keep an eye on things.

A couple pulls a dine-and-dash. I go to pick up their check and notice they’ve left without paying. I’m just starting to grumble when I notice they left their car keys behind. I go and hand them directly to our cop friend, who is hanging by the front.

The couple comes back in a minute later.

Couple: *Sheepishly* “Have you… uh… Have you seen our keys?”

Cop: *Taking over* “Yes, they’re right here next to the check you didn’t pay.”

That was satisfying to see even though I didn’t get tipped!

Related:
Their Dine And Dash Hopes Were Dashed, Part 2
Their Dine And Dash Hopes Were Dashed

A guy is at the bar, running a tab that has just three beers on it. He is also semi-nodding off in his seat. I check on him.

Me: “Hey, there! Can I get you some water or food?”

Customer: “No, just another beer!”

Me: “Sir, per policy, and local law, I can’t continue to serve you. I’d love to invite you back for more drinks tomorrow.”

Customer: “You trashy f****** b****!”

Me: “Okay, time to close your tab!”

I present him with the bill and listen to another round of him listing my personal faults. He then knocks the garnish tray off the bar, which covers me from the chest down in sticky juice, gives me a one-finger salute, and heads for the door without paying.

I start yelling, waving my arms crazily in the direction of my general manager.

Me: “You didn’t pay your tab!”

An off-duty officer having a nice dinner with his wife gets up and blocks the exit.

In the end, the officer made a list of charges: theft of services, destruction of private property (for breaking the garnish tray), public intoxication, public profanity, resisting arrest, assault (me), and assault on a police officer.

I think it would’ve been cheaper to pay for three beers.