You Can't Disguise Stupid

Meriam Webster has several definitions for a chameleon, one of which is “One that is subject to quick or frequent change especially in appearance.” Which brings me to last night’s highlight, who was trying to be a chameleon by changing shirts after getting cut off, but only accomplished looking the fool and pissing me off. When you enter a bar and the first thing out of your mouth is “Fuck Idaho! Never go there! Those cops suck!” you will be judged, not for your personal views on Idaho or cops, but because you are acting like a drunk jackass. The second time the drunkard came in, he was wearing a different shirt and got into a verbal spat with one of the other bartenders and was asked to leave and not come back for the night. He should have really taken that cue and went to chill out, but oh no, he came in a third time and called me an asshole because he was refused service and argued with me and told me to call the cops to have him removed. You sir have now officially pushed me over the line and will receive a verbal lashing, at the very least, and the possibility of physical removal, which fortunately did not happen as he made one good decision and left with minimal disturbance and chose not to return for the night. I thought to myself “This guy is going to get arrested tonight.” He did, not because of us, but because he must have taken it to the next level somewhere else. Thank you Karma!

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First Impressions

When someone walks up to the bar and you can almost smell them from fifty feet away, it is really hard to force yourself to want to engage them in conversation, no matter how nice they are. Then when you do make your way over to talk to them and the first thing they say is “Hey man! I’m a homeless climber living out of my car, what’s cheap?” The response they can expect is “Hi! Can I see your ID?” Then act totally surprised when they give you an expired, temporary paper driver’s license that is in pieces. I would prefer that he had the proper documentation and spend his money with us, but alas, it was not to be. I did, however, appreciate his positive attitude and would love him to come back after he gets his permanent form of identification from his parent’s house, because that’s where thirty year olds have that sort of thing sent. And when he picks that ID up, if his parents are anything like mine, he will have a fresh stick of deodorant to apply to his underarms, and possibly other regions, before he comes in to get a drink. It would be greatly appreciated.

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Hugs and Helmets

When going into a bar, I’m sure most people’s thoughts running through their head do not include “Hey, I think I’ll interrupt the bartender while he is super busy taking someone’s order to see if they have Fireball and then act like a jerk when he ignores me then tells me to wait my turn.” Well, you guessed it, that is exactly what happened. Now, while the direct offender is a great source of frustration in this situation, the real problem will have to fall upon the parents of said idiot. People, teach your kids manners when they are young so I don’t have to do it for you when they get older, it’s not my job. Getting your kids drunk so they make bad decisions, then have to call you at three in the morning to pick them up from the police station, yeah, that’s my job, and once again, back to that parenting thing. It’s not TV’s fault, or the schools and teacher’s fault, or their dumbass friends, it’s your fault for not giving them the tools to take on grownup life. Now, let’s say you did try to give them a good example of how to be a good person when they grow up and they are still entitled, rude jerks that make bad decisions. Well, I think at that point you have to chalk it up to natural selection and accept them for what they are and give them lots of hugs, and a helmet.

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There Are No Stupid Questions, Only Stupid People

Part of my job as a bartender is to try to give people what they want, like most service industry jobs, that is how you get repeat customers. Most of the time that is not a difficult task, you fill the glass up with the preferred adult beverage and voila! Now, there are those situations where someone isn’t sure about what they want so you do your best to steer them in the right direction by asking a few questions about their preferences. Then there are those people that think they know what they want but don’t actually have a clue because they have no idea about what they are talking about, kind of like trying to order a hamburger at a place that only sells cupcakes, much like the guy last night. He comes up to me and says “You know, I want a cocktail, but I don’t want it to be strong.” I proceed to tell him that our cocktails are poured pretty stiff as a general rule but I could accommodate his request. Then I asked him what he would like me to make him and he says “I think I’ll have a Manhattan.” Now, I took a second to gather the proper words, because I think a small part of my brain that is in charge of restraining the smart-ass comments from blasting this guy off of his barstool just short circuited. So, with as little sarcasm as possible, I asked “You do realize that a Manhattan has nothing but alcohol in it, don’t you?” (My eye may have just twitched a bit while I was asking that) To which he says “Oh yeah, well, it’s been a while since I’ve been out.” Seriously? That’s your best excuse? After having to bite my lip to keep myself from trying to explain why that statement made NO sense at all, I politely gave him a drink suggestion that might be a little more up his alley. Look guys, if you don’t know what you are ordering and are trying to look cool in front of a cute girl, stop, remember that you probably aren’t cool, and play it safe by ordering a beer. Also, you might just save an old bartender’s life by not triggering an aneurism.

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Lunatics

Why hello there full moon! How’s it going? I see you stirred things up again as usual, leaving it up to us bartenders and servers to help bring people down off the ledge and sent back on their way. Yeah, thanks for that. Honestly, it was a pretty mellow night, things were moving along just fine until the last half hour before closing. That’s when I was reminded of why the term “lunacy” exists. It is a derivative of the word Luna, which is moon, and the behavior associated with the affects the full moon has on people. I can tell you what the affect is on people when combined with alcohol, complete douchebaggery, that’s what. Do you feel the need to walk behind the bar? Go right ahead! Want to start a problem with a stranger? Why not! It’s almost a full moon! It’s like a get out of jail free card, except for the fact that there is no excuse for being a jackass and jail is real folks. Here’s an idea, let’s all try to behave like adults and recognize when the wheels are starting to come off the cart and stop to make sure the lug nuts are still attached.

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