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.
