His Speaking Speed Keeps Dublin And Dublin  

, , , , | Right | December 6, 2019

(I work as a waiter and bartender at an Irish pub in Spain that also serves restaurant food. I don’t speak Spanish but have picked up enough to get by when working — food, drinks, numbers, etc. I generally don’t have any language problems while working, but it’s obvious Spanish is not my native language. A Spanish customer has come in with his wife and son to eat lunch.)

Wife: *in Spanish* “I’ll have the chicken burger and a lemonade, please.”

Me: *in Spanish* “That’s fine.”

Son: *in Spanish* “And I’ll have fish and chips and a Coke.”

Me: *in Spanish* “Certainly.”

Husband: *speaks in Spanish too quickly and unintelligibly for me to understand*

Me: *in Spanish* “I’m sorry?”

Husband: *still speaks too quickly*

Me: *in English* “I’m sorry, I can’t quite understand that.”

Husband: *still speaking too quickly*

Me: “Maybe if you show me on the menu?”

Husband: *more unintelligible Spanish, getting annoyed*

(His wife then attempts to tell me what her husband wants, but he silences her.)

Husband: *more unintelligible Spanish*

(I think I finally understand the order and leave to give it to the cooks. When it’s ready, I bring the order back. The husband looks at his meal and then at me.)

Husband: *in perfect English* “I said I wanted the Irish Breakfast!”

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472

Some Truly Sick Customers Out There

, , , , | Right | November 18, 2019

(I’m eighteen, working my first job at a pub. I’ve been dealing with a “Serial Puker” who likes to decorate our disabled toilet with vomit — walls, floors, the lot! As I’ve got a strong stomach — and the disabled toilet is used by genuine users frequently — I have had to clean up this mess eight times in the last three weeks. We know who it is, but have yet to prove that he is doing it. It’s 10:30 pm on a busy Saturday, a regular has just asked me to refill the toilet roll, and as I walk out, a well-dressed — somewhat intoxicated — man pushes past me into the toilet. Cue vomiting sounds. I go get the mop bucket, paper towels, and gloves ready, check the toilet, and then follow the man to his table.)

Me: “Sir, do you need me to call you an ambulance?”

Vomiter: “What? No, Why?!”

Me: “Well, you’ve been so unwell in the bathroom that you’ve managed to vomit over every surface except the toilet itself. I assume you’re feeling extremely unwell.”

Vomiter: “There’s nothing f****** wrong with me. It doesn’t matter where I f****** puke, b****. I’m paying your wages so clean it up.”

Me: “In that case, sir, I am giving you two options: clean up your mess and don’t do it again, or you’re banned.”

Vomiter: “F*** you. Who do you think you are, telling me what to do?! Do you know who I am?”

Me: “Actually, sir, I do. And I dare say your sergeant would love to hear about your behaviour tonight. I have his mobile number and am more than happy to let him know the issue we’re having and show him the CCTV footage from the last three weeks.”

Vomiter: *suddenly very pale* “Uh, no, no. I, uh, don’t do that. I’ll pay for cleanup. I’m sorry.”

Me: “No, sir, the disabled toilet is needed tonight. You are welcome to clean it up yourself, though, if you’d like?”

Vomiter: “Uh, yeah. Okay. Uh, have you got any gloves?”

(We never had another problem whilst I worked there!)

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911

That Had Better Be Tomato Sauce On The Pizza

, , , , , , , , | Working | November 12, 2019

I am the assistant manager at an Irish theme pub. It’s a busy Friday night and everything is going well. I decide to order pizza for myself and the rest of the staff, as we’ve all been on shift for quite a while and it’s starting to quieten down enough for us to relax slightly before we close.

Just after I get off the phone, there is a tremendous sound of smashing glass from the lower bar. I stick my head around the corner to see a huge hole now in one of our massive plate glass windows that face the street. The customers who are in the bar are all looking shocked, and some are covered in glass, so I quickly work out that somebody broke it from the outside in, so a coworker and I run out into the street to try and find the culprit.

I follow a trail of blood across the street and find a middle-aged couple, both pretty drunk. The woman has huge gashes in her arm from where it went through the window, and she is bleeding pretty heavily. I quickly send my coworker back to the bar to grab a roll of paper towels to hold the poor woman’s arm together while I ring an ambulance.

The whole time, the woman is saying she’s fine and that she just wants to go back to her hotel, despite the fact she has an arterial bleed pulsing out of her forearm. The man says nothing at all, apart from offering me a cigarette.

After a long wait, a mobile paramedic turns up and starts asking questions, not actually helping that much, while his colleague watches. All this time, I am still trying to keep this drunk woman’s arm from falling apart.

Eventually, he rings for an actual ambulance, and I suddenly feel a very insistent tap on my shoulder.

I turn, keeping my grip on the woman’s arm, to see a pizza delivery guy trying to hand me a stack of pizzas. It turns out he’d gone into the bar to drop them off, and apparently insisted on giving them to the name on the order. When the other staff had told him where I was, he’d come out to find me.

When I tell him to go back to the bar and that they will pay him from the till, he just keeps repeating the total price at me and trying to balance the pizzas on my already rather occupied arms. Finally, the other paramedic takes over holding the woman’s arm together, and I have my hands free. The pizza guy dumps the stack of pizzas into my blood-covered arms, takes some money off my coworker who has come out to help, and leaves without a word. That leaves me covered in blood, tired, not a little annoyed, and holding five large pizzas in the middle of the road at midnight on a Friday night.

We later discovered that the woman had got into an argument with her husband while walking past our pub, tried to punch him in the face, and missed, putting her fist through the window.

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Unfiltered Story #173101

, , | Unfiltered | October 28, 2019

(I’m in a pub chain known for low prices and theme meal days. This is curry day and I’m at the bar waiting to order lunch. There is one customer in front of me in the queue)

Customer: I would like the chicken korma please
Bar man: What would you like to drink with that?
Customer: Nothing, I don’t drink
Bar man: It includes * long list of different soft and non alcoholic drinks*
Customer: I said NOTHING
Bar man: Very well, that’s £7.25 please
Customer: The menu says £6.15
Bar man: That’s if you have a drink with it
Customer: STOP TRYING TO RIP ME OFF! it’s never cheaper with a drink!
Bar man: That’ll be £7.25 please.
The customer pays up and goes off grumbling about trying to force her to spend more on a drink.

Unfiltered Story #168994

, | Unfiltered | October 7, 2019

I work as a bouncer in a pub.
Two guys Come up to the entrance with two girls behind them.
I ask to see their ID, the two guys andre the first girl show there and all three are a few months over 20 (the legal age for hard liquor in norway) the fourth are making a show of her rambling trough her purse before she say’s this: my purse is to crammed so I can’t get my ID out but I’m old enough, while I can see her ID laying lose in her purse trough the whole conversation.