Unable To Own Up To Ownership

, , , , , | Working | August 15, 2019

(My husband and I go to a local bar after going out for dinner. We have been to this place a few times over the years and not much has changed; it’s laid back and inexpensive, and you can play pool for a dollar a game. We walk in, show the bouncer our IDs, and are seated at a table. It isn’t too busy; maybe half the seats are in use and mostly by people in their 40s and 50s. While we’re waiting for our drinks, a man comes stumbling in the front door and immediately starts yelling and swearing. A group at the bar greets him the same way, so we assume he is joining their party. He was clearly drinking before he came in.)

Drunk Man: “Hey, you ugly-a** motherf*****s! Where the f*** did you come from?” *to the bouncer* “You let these a**holes in?”

Bouncer: *smiling* “They tipped me pretty good!”

Drunk Man: *laughs* “Ah, you got bought, you b******!”

(Their conversations continue like this for quite a while, as the man keeps ordering rounds of drinks and shots for his group, taking a few himself. As the night goes on, he gets even louder and more colorful with his language. My husband and I decide to play some pool. We put our money in one of the tables and press the button to release the balls and only half of them come out. Confused, my husband reaches in the space where the balls should be, thinking maybe two of them got jammed. The bouncer sees us and comes over.)

Bouncer: “Oh, sorry, guys. Hang on. Someone busted this table a while ago. The balls get stuck on the track. Let me open that up for you. Next game, you should move to that table.” *points to the table beside us*

(The bouncer pulls the door off the side of the pool table and manually retrieves the rest of the balls before replacing the door.)

Drunk Man: “You didn’t fix the f****** pool table? You piece of s***!”

Bouncer: *shrugs* “Boss doesn’t pay me enough.”

Drunk Man: *laughs* “You work for a f****** a**hole!”

(We play one game and move to the next table. Again, we put our money in and press the button, but this time none of the balls come out. Instead, the door pops off and the balls start falling out the side. We immediately begin picking them up and putting them on the table. Suddenly, the drunk man is standing over us.)

Drunk Man: “What the f*** are you doing?!”

Husband: “I think this table is broken, too. We just—“

Drunk Man: “It’s not broken; you’re just too f****** stupid to know how it works!”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Drunk Man: “Shut up, b****. The men are talking.”

Husband: “Uh… Please don’t talk to my wife like that. Maybe you need to go sit down and drink some water.”

(I look to the bouncer, who is standing back watching everything unfold. We make eye contact and he looks away.)

Drunk Man: “Look, it’s easy. A [disabled slur] f****** monkey could do it. You put the money in, you push the button, and the balls come out over there. Not here! Why the f*** would you do that?”

Husband: “We did do all of that, not that it’s any of your concern.”

Drunk Man: “You’re f****** stealing!”

Me: “We are not! How about you go back to your friends over there? You don’t need to be concerned with us.”

Drunk Man: “No! You’re stealing, you thieving f****** [racist slur]s!”

(My husband and I exchange surprised looks. We are both quite white, as is every other person in this bar, so the N-word popping out like that is a shock. The drunk man starts grabbing the balls off the table and throwing them in the pockets. Since the door is still off and he uses considerable force when rolling them in, the balls go down the track under the table and fall to the floor. He repeats this process. We stand there watching. I turn to the bouncer again, who motions us over to him. Our waitress passes the drunk man, who grabs her by the arm and says something we can’t hear. She nods and walks behind the bar. He looks at us and gives us the middle finger.)

Drunk Man: “Yeah, you go sit the f*** down! F****** idiots. Are you new? You don’t know how f****** pool tables work?! Idiots. Piece of s*** tourists.”

Bouncer: “You should probably let him calm down.”

Me: “You’re not going to do anything about him?”

Bouncer: *shrugs*

Me: “Wow.”

Waitress: *appears with our check* “Here you go, guys. Have a nice night.”

Me: “What? We didn’t ask for the check.”

Waitress: *sighs* “You have to leave.”

Husband: “For what?”

Waitress: “Being disruptive.”

Me: “Us?! What about him?!” *points to the drunk guy, now trying to pound the pool table door back into place*

Waitress: “That’s the new owner. He says you have to go.”

Husband:That guy is the owner? Are you serious?”

Waitress: “Yeah. He says if you don’t leave, he’ll call the cops. You should just go. I’m sorry.”

Me: “Wow. This is… Wow.”

(We paid and left. I left a negative review on their corporate page, but was notified a few days later that it was removed by the owner for containing false information. When I asked what was false, the owner responded that he was nothing but polite to us and we were lying out our a**es about the night. He then threatened to sue us for lying, saying he would pull the video footage and everything. I told him to go for it, but I haven’t heard a word since.)

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