Bittersweet

| Working | October 3, 2013

(I’m at one of my favorite pubs with my sister and a friend after an uneventful day of work at a new job. I get a call from the person who hired me, and she informs me that I am being let go after only two weeks because I was ‘not a good fit.’ She refuses to give me any more information, and I hang up in shock. My sister and friend try to comfort me in my sadness and anger just as one of our favorite servers stops by.)

Server: “Hey! Is everything okay?”

Me: “No. I was just let go from my job for no reason.”

Server: “What?! That’s awful!”

Friend: “I think it’s discriminatory because she’s gay. If she had made a mistake, they would have at least warned her.”

Server: “Could be that. I swear, there was one time I was fired from a job because I was brunette and everyone else was blonde. Can I buy you another drink, hon?”

Me: “That’s sweet, but no, thank you. I don’t think it’ll make me feel any better.”

(I barely eat my dinner because I feel so rotten. Suddenly, the server comes back and sets down a fudge brownie with ice cream on top.)

Server: “Here, this is for you, on the house.”

Me: “Oh, no! Thank you, but I’ve lost my appetite!”

Server: “That’s okay. That’s why I brought three spoons!”

(I manage to nibble at some of the free dessert as the server continues to comfort me. Her kindness is so appreciated that the next day, I drop off a thank you card with a modest gift. If the server ends up reading this, I want to say: Thank you for your compassion during one of the most difficult and confusing nights of my life!)

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Don’t Discount The Waitress

| Working | September 6, 2013

(My dad and I are out to dinner at a pub, where we have one waitress for ordering while other people bring the food. We order two burgers. Almost 40 minutes go by.)

Dad: “Look, we should get our waitress.”

Me: “Yeah, this is taking way too long.”

(Our main waitress comes by, and we don’t even have to say anything; she stares at our table in shock.)

Waitress: “They haven’t brought you your food yet? That’s ridiculous. I’ll go talk to the cooks.”

(She leaves and comes back with a long-suffering look on her face.)

Waitress: “So, you’re not going to believe this. Apparently they messed up the order of another table, and since their order was similar to yours, they went ahead and gave that table your food.”

Me: “What? Are you serious?”

Waitress: “Right? I handed them your ticket, and they just laughed. So I told them, ‘This isn’t funny. They’ve been sitting there for a long time waiting for just two burgers.’ So hopefully they will bring out your food soon. I’m going to get you guys a discount.”

(The burgers finally arrive, and are quite delicious. The waitress returns with our check.)

Waitress: “So they finally came!”

Me: “Yeah, they were really good. Thanks.”

Waitress: “Yeah, except the timing. So I got you $10 off. He almost only gave you $5 off, but I said, ‘Dude, no way. Take off more.'”

Me: “Dad, please give her an amazing tip.”

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Wilt By Association

| Right | October 10, 2012

(I’m the only barman on shift and have just told a rather rowdy customer that he’ll have to leave if he doesn’t calm down. However, he starts to mouth off at me instead. A MASSIVE guy who I’ve never met before turns around to watch him.)

Customer: *to the massive guy* “What the f*** you gonna do? I’ll f***ing take you, I’ll beat the f***ing s*** out of you!”

Massive Guy: “Hah! No you f***ing won’t. This guy…” *indicates me* “…can chokeslam me, so I’d love to see what he can do to YOU.”

(The rowdy customer looks up at him, and then looks back at me in surprise.)

Customer: “Uh… yeah, right. He’s a f***ing twig. He couldn’t do s*** to anyone!”

(I shrug and start to walk round the bar.)

Me: “Okay, if you’re so sure, let’s go outside, shall we?”

(At this, the rowdy customer deflates and backs towards the door.)

Customer: “Uh… nevermind… I’ll… I’ll take your word for it!” *turns tail and runs*

Me: *to the massive guy* “Thanks for the help there.”

Massive Guy: “Don’t worry about it. I hate seeing people try to bully barstaff. You shouldn’t disrespect the guy who gives you beer.”

(His drinks were free for the rest of the night!)

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Save The Day, Get The Girl

| Romantic | August 16, 2012

(I am a girl. I am with my gay best friend, who is a guy. We are having a drink in a local pub.)

Homophobic Patrons: *hurling homophobic abuse at my friend*

My Friend: “I think I need to go. I’m not feeling very comfortable here.”

(Suddenly, a guy at the table next to us pipes in.)

Guy: “No! Don’t leave! You’ll only make them win!”

(The guy then stands up and confronts the homophobes.)

Guy: “I heard that the biggest abusers of gays are closet gays themselves that don’t have the emotional security to come to terms with themselves, and so take it out on those that do, out of jealousy.”

Homophobe #1: “Shut up, you gaylord! Or do you want to take it outside?”

Guy: “I would love to, and so would my friends drinking with me celebrating our recent win at the Ju-jitsu tournament.”

(The guy gestures to a table of about seven men; all seven stand to back him up. We are all suddenly aware of the large trophy in the middle of their table, clearly awarded for a martial arts tournament.)

Homophobe #1: “Hey, no worries man. I wasn’t trying to involve you anyway.”

Guy: “Yes you were. You were abusing someone that you didn’t know out of ignorance and insecurity, and no one should have to suffer because you’re useless as decent human being. Now, apologise to my friend and then leave this bar before you embarrass yourself even more.”

(Homophobe #1 turns to my friend.)

Homophobe #1: muttering softly* “Sorry.”

Guy: “Louder, please.”

Homophobe: “I’m… sorry.”

(The humiliated homophobe leaves with his friends. Our heroic saviour then turns to my friend.)

Guy: “Are you okay, mate?”

My Friend: “Are you gay?”

Guy: *laughs* “No, my friend. But thanks, I’m flattered.”

My Friend: “No, not for me! For her!”

(My friend shoves me in front of the guy.)

My Friend: “This is my friend. She is single, gorgeous, and in need of a heroic man in her life. You guys have a drink on me, because, trust me, if she doesn’t start dating you, I will!”

(The guy graciously accepts, and has a drink with me. Twelve years later, we are now married with children, with my friend as one of the godparents!)

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Magic Mic

| Romantic | August 9, 2012

(My friends and I have been to a few open-mics since the start of term. I have noticed a face among the regular performers and am harboring a bit of a crush. I’ve been on YouTube earlier in the day to have a look at his music. Somehow at a smaller open-mic, my friends manage to position me right in front of him for his set.)

Him: “There was something I wanted to say, but I really can’t remember.”

(I mutter something to my friends.)

Him: “Oh, yeah! You!” *points at me* “How do you know the words to all my songs?”

Friend: “She’s your stalker!”

Me: *mortified and speaking too fast* “I looked you up on YouTube and I have a stupidly good memory for lyrics.”

(He grins, I go get another drink and to kill my friends. We got together a month later!)

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