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Time To Put This Lady On Ice

, , , , | Right | CREDIT: litcandle87 | December 3, 2020

My dad used to own an ice rink where we lived. The ice rink had a bar in a big lobby that was really long — think about thirty feet or ten meters. I was allowed to since my dad owned the rink. I would get lemonade, and occasionally, I’d get some for my friends, too, without charging them.

One day, I am behind the bar just getting some lemonade like I normally do. While my back is turned to the bar, I hear somebody sort of clearing their throat, as if to get my attention. I don’t pay any mind to it, assuming they are trying to get the actual bartender’s attention. After I finish filling up my lemonade, I turn around and see this lady. She looks unhappy, and I immediately get nervous. I have social anxiety, and I tend to clam up around adults I don’t know.

Woman: “Excuse me, but I have been trying to order drinks and you have been ignoring me.”

Me: “Ma’am, I didn’t know you were talking to me. I don’t work here; I’m only behind the bar because—”

Woman: *Cutting me off* “I need two lemonades, a Sprite, a Budweiser, and a Coors Light.”

Me: “Ma’am, for the last time, I don’t work here. I’m fourteen. Please go see the actual bartender, [Bartender], and order your drinks.”

Woman: *Starting to get mad* “Then why are you behind the bar? Are you trying to steal drinks?”

Me: “No, ma’am. I’ve been trying to tell you, my dad—”

Woman: *Screeching* “Get me whoever is in charge right now! You are behaving absolutely unacceptably and not getting me my drinks!”

I am on the verge of tears. Fortunately, my dad happens to be in his little office near the bar, and I can go get him. I tell him what happened in a few brief words, and he actually knows who I am talking about. Apparently, he kicked out the same lady a few weeks ago for abusing [Bartender].

My dad stands up and walks over to this woman. He’s about 6’5” and weighs 210 pounds, so he is pretty intimidating. This lady can’t be more than 5’2” and maybe 130 pounds. So, when my dad walks over to this lady, I could see a little bit of apprehension on her face. She is still trying to maintain her bluster, but I can also tell she doesn’t want to be anywhere near my dad.

Dad: “Hello, is there a problem?”

Woman: “Yes! Are you the manager here? This bartender is absolutely awful and refusing to serve me drinks!”

Dad: “Ma’am, I am the owner of this building and that is my daughter. She is fourteen and is not a bartender.”

There happens to be a framed newspaper clipping with my dad on it for buying the ice rink right where we are standing, which the woman sees. The color immediately drains out of her face, but for whatever reason, she still tries to throw a fit.

Woman: “Well, she should have still served me drinks! I didn’t know she was fourteen! You should give me free skating passes for my trouble!”

How this woman didn’t know I wasn’t a bartender is a mystery to me. I am a little bit tall for my age, around 5’6”, but the oldest you could mistake me for is maybe sixteen. I have freaking braces, for crying out loud.

My dad is getting pretty angry right now, and he is tired of dealing with this lady.

Dad: “Actually, aren’t you the lady who got thrown out a few weeks ago for being rude to the actual bartender? Because you have been abusing the staff here, you need to leave now, and you are banned from the building, as well.”

Woman: “But I didn’t know! You can’t ban me! You have no right!”

Dad: “Actually, I do. Now, either get out before I have to remove you myself, or leave before I call the police to file a report for harassment.”

The woman realized he wasn’t actually kidding and thankfully left. My dad made sure I was okay, and I got some more lemonade.

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