DISCLAIMER: The following candidates for Douchebag of the Week are from the last 2-3 weeks. I have creative timekeeping skills. Deal with it.
Learn How to Drive: So as I'm riding my bike to work, I see this yahoo moron on the main street, in the right turn lane....so naturally they go straight, cutting off others who managed to get in the correct lane to begin with. Horn honking and finger gestures ensued from the other drivers. Due to the fact that this is all too common at this particular intersection, this idiot is not the Douchebag of the Week. Nice effort, though.
Learn How to Ride: I would be remiss in my reporting duties if I limited myself to the morons in the cars. This one genius on a bicycle was riding along, and kept riding despite the red light. At an intersection of two major streets. With tons of traffic. Amazingly, he did not get hit by a car. That is not due to my lack of wishful thinking, though, as idjits like this make all bicyclist look bad. Fuckwit. Still, not the Douchebag of the Week, as much as I would like to strangle the fucker.
Blondes Just Want to Have Fun: So these three blondes were drinking at my bar, a mother and two daughters. They had a few drinks, and then suddenly...they weren't there. Gone. Vanished. Did you notice the part where I said they paid their bill? No? That's because they didn't. So, while I was busy, I took off running, telling some guests who had just sat down "Be right back!" and off I went, sprinting up the street, as I saw them a block away. "LADIES! LADIES! LADIES!" Nothing. And I have a VOICE, mind you. I finally caught up to them, though. "Ladies, you kinda forgot to pay your tab." Mom: "Oh." Yes, these ladies made the blonde stereotype that much worse. Mom came back and paid the tab, but really? You're an adult. Shit ain't free. Pay your tab, and don't make the bartender chase you. Still, not the Douchebags of the Week.
An Unlikely Candidate: Me! Yes, I am a candidate for this dubious award. Why? Well, I upsold a customer to my signature margarita. My recipe. My drink. And yet, while making it, I fucked it up, and put the wrong thing in it. You would think that a recipe I developed over the years and take great pride in would be one I might just remember how to make. And....you would be wrong.
A Penny For Your Thoughts: So a guy sits down at my bar, shortly before happy hour starts. He asks about happy hour, and I explain to him that it has not started yet. He orders a drink, and asks, "So this drink is not under happy hour, right?" Correct. Again, this is not me telling him and him not understanding, this is him telling me that he understands the situation. Well, a few minutes go by, happy hour starts, and he orders some happy hour food. He gets the food, he eats the food, he drinks his drink. I offer him a second drink. "Would that be free?" Since we have a 2 for 1 deal on certain drinks at happy hour, but his first drink was NOT during happy hour, which I remind him of, and offer him a second drink, which would make his third one free. Upon being told something he already knew, i.e., that his first drink did not fall under happy hour, he got a Cat Butt Face and asked for his bill. Which I gave to him, and he paid, and left. And left in the check presenter a single penny, which is the standard way for a customer to tell a server "I didn't forget to tip, you just suck." And apparently I sucked because I didn't change everything around to accommodate this loser even though he knew the score from the beginning. Fuck you, asshole. But to your credit, you narrowly avoid being the Douchebag of the Week. Because, you see, you actually paid your bill.
Congratulations, Kansas City: You win. You four idiots from KC are officially my Douchebags of the Week. You came in, you sat, you ordered drinks, I made the drinks, you drank the drinks, and you left. Does anyone see the part where I say "they paid their bill"? No? Probably because that didn't happen. They just....up and left, when I wasn't looking, completely stiffing me on a $23 tab. I guess in Kansas City it's common to just assume that drinks are free or something, because not one of these four DOUCHEBAGS bothered to FUCKING PAY their bill.
Thanks, guys. I didn't need that $23 anyway. No, I didn't end up paying it, but still, for all they knew, I might have had to. So fuck them, and their shitty football team, too.
They are my Douchebags of the Week. Cheap fucking bastards.
Learn How to Drive: So as I'm riding my bike to work, I see this yahoo moron on the main street, in the right turn lane....so naturally they go straight, cutting off others who managed to get in the correct lane to begin with. Horn honking and finger gestures ensued from the other drivers. Due to the fact that this is all too common at this particular intersection, this idiot is not the Douchebag of the Week. Nice effort, though.
Learn How to Ride: I would be remiss in my reporting duties if I limited myself to the morons in the cars. This one genius on a bicycle was riding along, and kept riding despite the red light. At an intersection of two major streets. With tons of traffic. Amazingly, he did not get hit by a car. That is not due to my lack of wishful thinking, though, as idjits like this make all bicyclist look bad. Fuckwit. Still, not the Douchebag of the Week, as much as I would like to strangle the fucker.
Blondes Just Want to Have Fun: So these three blondes were drinking at my bar, a mother and two daughters. They had a few drinks, and then suddenly...they weren't there. Gone. Vanished. Did you notice the part where I said they paid their bill? No? That's because they didn't. So, while I was busy, I took off running, telling some guests who had just sat down "Be right back!" and off I went, sprinting up the street, as I saw them a block away. "LADIES! LADIES! LADIES!" Nothing. And I have a VOICE, mind you. I finally caught up to them, though. "Ladies, you kinda forgot to pay your tab." Mom: "Oh." Yes, these ladies made the blonde stereotype that much worse. Mom came back and paid the tab, but really? You're an adult. Shit ain't free. Pay your tab, and don't make the bartender chase you. Still, not the Douchebags of the Week.
An Unlikely Candidate: Me! Yes, I am a candidate for this dubious award. Why? Well, I upsold a customer to my signature margarita. My recipe. My drink. And yet, while making it, I fucked it up, and put the wrong thing in it. You would think that a recipe I developed over the years and take great pride in would be one I might just remember how to make. And....you would be wrong.
A Penny For Your Thoughts: So a guy sits down at my bar, shortly before happy hour starts. He asks about happy hour, and I explain to him that it has not started yet. He orders a drink, and asks, "So this drink is not under happy hour, right?" Correct. Again, this is not me telling him and him not understanding, this is him telling me that he understands the situation. Well, a few minutes go by, happy hour starts, and he orders some happy hour food. He gets the food, he eats the food, he drinks his drink. I offer him a second drink. "Would that be free?" Since we have a 2 for 1 deal on certain drinks at happy hour, but his first drink was NOT during happy hour, which I remind him of, and offer him a second drink, which would make his third one free. Upon being told something he already knew, i.e., that his first drink did not fall under happy hour, he got a Cat Butt Face and asked for his bill. Which I gave to him, and he paid, and left. And left in the check presenter a single penny, which is the standard way for a customer to tell a server "I didn't forget to tip, you just suck." And apparently I sucked because I didn't change everything around to accommodate this loser even though he knew the score from the beginning. Fuck you, asshole. But to your credit, you narrowly avoid being the Douchebag of the Week. Because, you see, you actually paid your bill.
Congratulations, Kansas City: You win. You four idiots from KC are officially my Douchebags of the Week. You came in, you sat, you ordered drinks, I made the drinks, you drank the drinks, and you left. Does anyone see the part where I say "they paid their bill"? No? Probably because that didn't happen. They just....up and left, when I wasn't looking, completely stiffing me on a $23 tab. I guess in Kansas City it's common to just assume that drinks are free or something, because not one of these four DOUCHEBAGS bothered to FUCKING PAY their bill.
Thanks, guys. I didn't need that $23 anyway. No, I didn't end up paying it, but still, for all they knew, I might have had to. So fuck them, and their shitty football team, too.
They are my Douchebags of the Week. Cheap fucking bastards.
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