Stop Trying to Kill Yourself Using My Truck!
This is the last time I'm posting about this, but I swear this drives me crazy. Why do so many fucking people insist on crossing against the red light at busy intersections? I can understand it at minor intersections, sure, or on non-busy streets. But seriously? At some of the busiest intersections in town? While there is a lot of traffic going on? Seriously people, stop. I am sick of testing my brakes because you are trying to become my newest hood ornament.
See the Palm Trees? That Means This Isn't Europe!
Two Euro girls walk up to my bar. They order drinks. I ask for ID. One has proper ID. And one...doesn't. She has a national ID card from her home country. I politely explain to her that I will need either a driver's license or a passport in order to serve her. Commence the arguing.
EURO GIRL: "But I don't have a driver's license."
JESTER: "I can take a passport."
EURO GIRL: "I don't have my passport with me."
JESTER: "I'm sorry, but Florida law says I can only take a driver's license or a passport for alcohol purchases."
EURO GIRL: "But this is a good ID in my country."
Yes, yes it is. But you're not IN your country right now, are you Petra? You're here in America, and we might just have somewhat different laws than back home in Gofuckyourselfislavia.
JESTER: "I'm sure it is, but here in Florida the law is very strict on what IDs I can accept."
EURO GIRL: "But we've been served here before."
JESTER: "Ma'am, I can't comment on what has or hasn't happened here before. I can only do my job, and at the moment that means I can't serve you alcohol, as you don't have the ID that the law requires you to have for me to serve you."
EURO GIRL: "What do you do for tourists?"
JESTER: "Ask them for their driver's license or passport."
EURO GIRL: "And when they don't have them?"
JESTER: "As I told you, I can't serve them."
EURO GIRL: "So you just turn away tourists, then?"
JESTER: "If they don't have a driver's license or passport, then by law, that is all I can do."
EURO GIRL: "So what am I supposed to do?"
Oh, the possibilities of what I could have said here....so damn tempting!
JESTER: "That's completely up to you, ma'am, but I can't serve you alcohol without proper ID."
I'd like to say this was an isolated incident. I'd also like to say I'm 6'4" and a secret agent with girls in every port. In both cases, I'd be lying through my teeth.
Please Go Back to Anchorage
Meet Dave. Dave is from Alaska. Dave is here on vacation. Dave has a coupon for a buy one get one free. Dave has a beer. Dave has a second beer. Dave proffers the coupon, and pays for the one beer he is on the hook for, a whopping four dollars for two beers. Even in Alaska, I would imagine that is a pretty good deal. For his four dollar purchase, Dave uses a credit card. After running the credit card, the good bartender notices that Dave is about to leave the bar with the bottle of beer. The good bartender suggests to Dave that he take a plastic cup for the beer, so as to avoid running afoul of the local law enforcement officers. Dave wonders why? Isn't this island a drinking town? Why yes, yes it is, says the good bartender. But even in this drinking town, it is illegal to walk around with open containers, but as long as you have your drinks in plastic cups, and aren't being a douchemuffin, the local law enforcement officials find that they have better things to do than bust your dumb ass. Dave continues to protest. The good bartender advises Dave that he can't force Dave to take a plastic cup, but was merely suggesting it for Dave's benefit, as walking around with a bottle of beer is a good way to receive a large ticket from one of the local law enforcement officials. Dave swills the rest of the bottle down, and leaves. The good bartender notices that Dave, who received two beers for four bucks, along with some good advice about the local customs, filled in the credit slip with a whopping tip of thirty cents.
Fuck Dave.
Let Me Guess: This is Your First Bar?
The bar isn't busy, and an older gentleman walks up. I happen to be standing right in the center of the bar, directly in front of 12 clearly visible beer taps.
OG: "Do you have beer here?"
JESTER: "No. No we don't."
And...he started to walk off.
JESTER: "Sir, I was kidding. Of course we have beer here!"
It's a bar. A FULL bar. A bar with beer taps directly behind the bartender you were just talking to. In your sixty years, sir, have you ever been to a bar that DIDN'T have beer? More importantly, have you ever been to a bar that had beer taps that didn't have beer?
Some People Really Are This Stupid
What I love about my job is that I don't have to make this stuff up. As a bartender in a tourist town, we get some highly amusing shit. Like this one girl who was sitting at my bar....
BRUNETTE: "Where do you guys go if you're sick or there's an emergency?"
JESTER: "Excuse me?"
BRUNETTE: "Well I heard that the hospital was really far away."
JESTER: "Well, it is on the next Key up, but that's only about four miles. Not really all that far. Why?"
BRUNETTE: "This guy we were talking to said that the hospital was really far away, and that if something happened, you'd be better off going to the vet."
JESTER: ...
BRUNETTE: "Is that true? Do you guys have to go to the vet?"
JESTER: "....Ma'am....if we're sick, we go to the regular doctor, or if it's an emergency, we go to the hospital, which as I said, isn't that far away. We do not go to the vet."
BRUNETTE: "Well, that's what this one guy told us."
JESTER: "Well, either he was yanking your chain, he was full of shit, or he was on drugs. Take your pick."
Yes. The vet. Riiiiiiight.
Our Dishwasher Thanks You
Whoever you are, our sweet Haitian dishwasher lady would like to thank you for the extra work. Yes, you, the person or persons who decided that it would perfectly appropriate to go into our lady's room and make a shitty mess.
And yes, my words were chosen very specifically, and not because of my love of profanity. Apparently the stall in the women's bathroom was, according to the customer who brought it to my attention, "overflowing in shit." I did not see it myself, so I can't provide exact details, but it didn't sound all that pleasant.
And our dishwasher didn't seem too happy.
A True Fan
As many bars do, we post the times and teams that will be playing the Sunday NFL games, and we do so several days in advance, not only because it's easier to figure it out before game day, but so that customers can figure out ahead of time where they're preferred team's game will be shown, and thus where they will attempt to get a seat. This is standard practice, and nothing new in the world.
A girl heading to the bathroom yesterday (Friday) stopped dead in her tracks, looked at the one tv in front of her, turned to me and said, "Wow...do the Falcons really play at one o'clock today?"
Clearly this woman follows the NFL religiously.
Nooners
And the winners of my latest "Biggest Idiots I've Dealt With Lately" Award are these two numbskulls.
Two guys stroll into my bar. They weren't bums per se, but those sketchy guys who are clearly just one missed odd job (or burglary) away from being homeless bums themselves. I call them scumbags.
So these scumbags stroll into the bar around noon, an older guy and a younger guy. The younger guy has to be told by my manager to put his shirt on. So he's off to a great start. He puts his shirt on and heads to the bathroom, while the older scumbag sits down at the bar. After greeting him and determining that he wants a beer, but doesn't know what kind, I give him a beer menu. (We have those. Kinda cool, huh?) He decides to take his time with it.
I go deal with other customers, and when I come back, the younger scumbag is back from his (lengthy) foray into the depths of our men's room. I can say that his eyes are almost as closed as mine (not usually the norm), and that he's, to put it politely, "listing to port." In actuality, his head was almost on the bar. Not a good sign.
OLDER SCUMBAG: "I'll have a Vero."
JESTER: "A what?"
OLDER SCUMBAG: "A Vero."
JESTER: "Not sure what you mean, sir."
OLDER SCUMBAG: (pointing to one of the beers on the menu) "This one."
JESTER: "Oh, a Mile Marker ZERO."
OLDER SCUMBAG: "That's what I said."
No. No, it's not.
JESTER: (to Younger Scumbag, having already determined from his demeanor and slurred speech while talking to Older Scumbag that I am NOT serving him alcohol) "And for you, sir?"
YOUNGER SCUMBAG: "Ah'll have uh Toashted Lugger."
JESTER: "I'm sorry, sir, but I can't serve you alcohol."
YOUNGER SCUMBAG: "Whut? Whey nut?"
JESTER: "Because, in my opinion, you are too inebriated for me to serve you. Would you like a soda?"
YOUNGER SCUMBAG: "Whuddya mean, I'm too innibbriated? YOU'RE slurring your words!"
JESTER: "That well may be, sir (it wasn't), but I still can't serve you."
YOUNGER SCUMBAG: "Well that's stoopid."
JESTER: "Are you arguing with me?"
YOUNGER SCUMBAG: "No, I jus wanna beer."
JESTER: "Well, I'm sorry sir, but that's not going to happen."
YOUNGER SCUMBAG: (attempting to use logic) "Well then whey did ya put a beer menu in frunt of me?"
JESTER: "I didn't. I put it in front of him."
Faced with logic superior to his own, the Younger Scumbag had no more ammunition in his already rather thin supply. So he and Older Scumbag (thankfully) got up and left. On their way out, my manager overheard one say to the other, "That's three."
As in, we were the third bar to refuse to serve them that day.
The time was 12:08 pm.
Congratulations, morons, you've been turned away at THREE bars by NOON! And by doing so, you have won my Biggest Idiots Award. Well done!
And by the way, arguing with a bartender when they've determined not to serve you is about as effective as arguing with a judge, a cop, or a bouncer; you're not going to win the argument. Unfortunately, we can't throw you in jail or out the door as the others can. Pity.
This is the last time I'm posting about this, but I swear this drives me crazy. Why do so many fucking people insist on crossing against the red light at busy intersections? I can understand it at minor intersections, sure, or on non-busy streets. But seriously? At some of the busiest intersections in town? While there is a lot of traffic going on? Seriously people, stop. I am sick of testing my brakes because you are trying to become my newest hood ornament.
See the Palm Trees? That Means This Isn't Europe!
Two Euro girls walk up to my bar. They order drinks. I ask for ID. One has proper ID. And one...doesn't. She has a national ID card from her home country. I politely explain to her that I will need either a driver's license or a passport in order to serve her. Commence the arguing.
EURO GIRL: "But I don't have a driver's license."
JESTER: "I can take a passport."
EURO GIRL: "I don't have my passport with me."
JESTER: "I'm sorry, but Florida law says I can only take a driver's license or a passport for alcohol purchases."
EURO GIRL: "But this is a good ID in my country."
Yes, yes it is. But you're not IN your country right now, are you Petra? You're here in America, and we might just have somewhat different laws than back home in Gofuckyourselfislavia.
JESTER: "I'm sure it is, but here in Florida the law is very strict on what IDs I can accept."
EURO GIRL: "But we've been served here before."
JESTER: "Ma'am, I can't comment on what has or hasn't happened here before. I can only do my job, and at the moment that means I can't serve you alcohol, as you don't have the ID that the law requires you to have for me to serve you."
EURO GIRL: "What do you do for tourists?"
JESTER: "Ask them for their driver's license or passport."
EURO GIRL: "And when they don't have them?"
JESTER: "As I told you, I can't serve them."
EURO GIRL: "So you just turn away tourists, then?"
JESTER: "If they don't have a driver's license or passport, then by law, that is all I can do."
EURO GIRL: "So what am I supposed to do?"
Oh, the possibilities of what I could have said here....so damn tempting!
JESTER: "That's completely up to you, ma'am, but I can't serve you alcohol without proper ID."
I'd like to say this was an isolated incident. I'd also like to say I'm 6'4" and a secret agent with girls in every port. In both cases, I'd be lying through my teeth.
Please Go Back to Anchorage
Meet Dave. Dave is from Alaska. Dave is here on vacation. Dave has a coupon for a buy one get one free. Dave has a beer. Dave has a second beer. Dave proffers the coupon, and pays for the one beer he is on the hook for, a whopping four dollars for two beers. Even in Alaska, I would imagine that is a pretty good deal. For his four dollar purchase, Dave uses a credit card. After running the credit card, the good bartender notices that Dave is about to leave the bar with the bottle of beer. The good bartender suggests to Dave that he take a plastic cup for the beer, so as to avoid running afoul of the local law enforcement officers. Dave wonders why? Isn't this island a drinking town? Why yes, yes it is, says the good bartender. But even in this drinking town, it is illegal to walk around with open containers, but as long as you have your drinks in plastic cups, and aren't being a douchemuffin, the local law enforcement officials find that they have better things to do than bust your dumb ass. Dave continues to protest. The good bartender advises Dave that he can't force Dave to take a plastic cup, but was merely suggesting it for Dave's benefit, as walking around with a bottle of beer is a good way to receive a large ticket from one of the local law enforcement officials. Dave swills the rest of the bottle down, and leaves. The good bartender notices that Dave, who received two beers for four bucks, along with some good advice about the local customs, filled in the credit slip with a whopping tip of thirty cents.
Fuck Dave.
Let Me Guess: This is Your First Bar?
The bar isn't busy, and an older gentleman walks up. I happen to be standing right in the center of the bar, directly in front of 12 clearly visible beer taps.
OG: "Do you have beer here?"
JESTER: "No. No we don't."
And...he started to walk off.
JESTER: "Sir, I was kidding. Of course we have beer here!"
It's a bar. A FULL bar. A bar with beer taps directly behind the bartender you were just talking to. In your sixty years, sir, have you ever been to a bar that DIDN'T have beer? More importantly, have you ever been to a bar that had beer taps that didn't have beer?
Some People Really Are This Stupid
What I love about my job is that I don't have to make this stuff up. As a bartender in a tourist town, we get some highly amusing shit. Like this one girl who was sitting at my bar....
BRUNETTE: "Where do you guys go if you're sick or there's an emergency?"
JESTER: "Excuse me?"
BRUNETTE: "Well I heard that the hospital was really far away."
JESTER: "Well, it is on the next Key up, but that's only about four miles. Not really all that far. Why?"
BRUNETTE: "This guy we were talking to said that the hospital was really far away, and that if something happened, you'd be better off going to the vet."
JESTER: ...
BRUNETTE: "Is that true? Do you guys have to go to the vet?"
JESTER: "....Ma'am....if we're sick, we go to the regular doctor, or if it's an emergency, we go to the hospital, which as I said, isn't that far away. We do not go to the vet."
BRUNETTE: "Well, that's what this one guy told us."
JESTER: "Well, either he was yanking your chain, he was full of shit, or he was on drugs. Take your pick."
Yes. The vet. Riiiiiiight.
Our Dishwasher Thanks You
Whoever you are, our sweet Haitian dishwasher lady would like to thank you for the extra work. Yes, you, the person or persons who decided that it would perfectly appropriate to go into our lady's room and make a shitty mess.
And yes, my words were chosen very specifically, and not because of my love of profanity. Apparently the stall in the women's bathroom was, according to the customer who brought it to my attention, "overflowing in shit." I did not see it myself, so I can't provide exact details, but it didn't sound all that pleasant.
And our dishwasher didn't seem too happy.
A True Fan
As many bars do, we post the times and teams that will be playing the Sunday NFL games, and we do so several days in advance, not only because it's easier to figure it out before game day, but so that customers can figure out ahead of time where they're preferred team's game will be shown, and thus where they will attempt to get a seat. This is standard practice, and nothing new in the world.
A girl heading to the bathroom yesterday (Friday) stopped dead in her tracks, looked at the one tv in front of her, turned to me and said, "Wow...do the Falcons really play at one o'clock today?"
Clearly this woman follows the NFL religiously.
Nooners
And the winners of my latest "Biggest Idiots I've Dealt With Lately" Award are these two numbskulls.
Two guys stroll into my bar. They weren't bums per se, but those sketchy guys who are clearly just one missed odd job (or burglary) away from being homeless bums themselves. I call them scumbags.
So these scumbags stroll into the bar around noon, an older guy and a younger guy. The younger guy has to be told by my manager to put his shirt on. So he's off to a great start. He puts his shirt on and heads to the bathroom, while the older scumbag sits down at the bar. After greeting him and determining that he wants a beer, but doesn't know what kind, I give him a beer menu. (We have those. Kinda cool, huh?) He decides to take his time with it.
I go deal with other customers, and when I come back, the younger scumbag is back from his (lengthy) foray into the depths of our men's room. I can say that his eyes are almost as closed as mine (not usually the norm), and that he's, to put it politely, "listing to port." In actuality, his head was almost on the bar. Not a good sign.
OLDER SCUMBAG: "I'll have a Vero."
JESTER: "A what?"
OLDER SCUMBAG: "A Vero."
JESTER: "Not sure what you mean, sir."
OLDER SCUMBAG: (pointing to one of the beers on the menu) "This one."
JESTER: "Oh, a Mile Marker ZERO."
OLDER SCUMBAG: "That's what I said."
No. No, it's not.
JESTER: (to Younger Scumbag, having already determined from his demeanor and slurred speech while talking to Older Scumbag that I am NOT serving him alcohol) "And for you, sir?"
YOUNGER SCUMBAG: "Ah'll have uh Toashted Lugger."
JESTER: "I'm sorry, sir, but I can't serve you alcohol."
YOUNGER SCUMBAG: "Whut? Whey nut?"
JESTER: "Because, in my opinion, you are too inebriated for me to serve you. Would you like a soda?"
YOUNGER SCUMBAG: "Whuddya mean, I'm too innibbriated? YOU'RE slurring your words!"
JESTER: "That well may be, sir (it wasn't), but I still can't serve you."
YOUNGER SCUMBAG: "Well that's stoopid."
JESTER: "Are you arguing with me?"
YOUNGER SCUMBAG: "No, I jus wanna beer."
JESTER: "Well, I'm sorry sir, but that's not going to happen."
YOUNGER SCUMBAG: (attempting to use logic) "Well then whey did ya put a beer menu in frunt of me?"
JESTER: "I didn't. I put it in front of him."
Faced with logic superior to his own, the Younger Scumbag had no more ammunition in his already rather thin supply. So he and Older Scumbag (thankfully) got up and left. On their way out, my manager overheard one say to the other, "That's three."
As in, we were the third bar to refuse to serve them that day.
The time was 12:08 pm.
Congratulations, morons, you've been turned away at THREE bars by NOON! And by doing so, you have won my Biggest Idiots Award. Well done!
And by the way, arguing with a bartender when they've determined not to serve you is about as effective as arguing with a judge, a cop, or a bouncer; you're not going to win the argument. Unfortunately, we can't throw you in jail or out the door as the others can. Pity.
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