I know that I just wrote yesterday but I did say (at least I think I said) in that post that I was going to write more often so, here I am, writing more often. And this post is going to be less self-reflective and more a story about my shift at work last night. So buckle up kids, let’s go!
Okay, so last night, as you know, was the Super Bowl. And so people came into the bar to watch the game. Just after I opened the bar at around 6pm, this young guy came in and took a seat at the bar. One of the places I work has two separate bars so he came in with a glass from the other side, which is totally cool. So there he was, sitting, chilling, minding his business when this diminutive lady came in and sat beside him and just started talking. Apparently they knew each other. Ish. As the night went on it became clear to me that he was a writer and he wanted to base a character off of this woman. And just in the interest of full disclosure, this became apparent to me because the guy told me while the woman was in the bathroom as a way to explain to me why the hell he was talking to her. Anyway, I got ahead of myself. So here is the thing about having been a bartender for as long as I have been: I can pick up on someone who will become a problem the second they walk through the door. She sat down, asked for a glass of wine and a menu and I knew. I just knew. It was all confirmed by the way she ordered her burger:
Lady: Can I have a burger? Medium well? And I don’t want a bun. Unless it’s toasted. Are your buns toasted?
Me: (snicker) Um…no.
Lady: Okay no bun then. They are wasted calories. But I don’t want any onions. I am really against onions. I don’t even want them to touch the plate.
Me: So, extra onions?
Lady, not amused even though I was clearly joking: No. Onions. None.
It was as if she thought the onions were going to jump off the plate and lodge themselves in her eyes. Which, in hindsight, I sort of wish happened because this woman was so incredibly insufferable that it would have saved all of the people in my bar a lot of headache. Also, the cops. She would have run out of the bar with onions on her face, her eyes watering, and we would have laughed and laughed. Or, I would have anyway. And the guy she tortured for the better part of 3 hours. About 5 minutes after she put in her order she asked me if I could add sauteed mushrooms to it. Now if she had been awesome, I would have walked to the kitchen and tried to find her order and had them put mushrooms on it. But she wasn’t awesome. She was already annoying me. She was like a dagger just behind my left temple and every time she opened her mouth there was this sharp little poke. And my co-worker confirmed that she was, um, not quite with it and said that in all likelihood she would torment me through my entire shift. Great. She got no mushrooms.
Sitting to the side of this lady was a really nice couple who also were being tormented by her incessant jabbering. They brought me comfort because every time the lady got annoying, which was pretty much constantly, me and the girl would make bitch faces to each other which the lady didn’t notice because she was too busy talking about how much she knew about narcism. Apparently she didn’t see the irony in this. I do have to say though that the lady did bring some entertainment because every 25-30 minutes I would run next door and joke with my coworker about it. I think the entire other bar knew all the details of my plight.
Anyway, so this entire time the dude she was talking to, who we will call A, was being so chill. I could not for the life of me figure out how he wasn’t totally losing his shit. If I were him I would have completely blown my top but no, he held it together. And the crazy thing is that I didn’t even know what was really going on! This lady was all rubbing up on his leg, telling him she wanted to take him across the street to her house and fuck him, and all other sorts of things. And A. didn’t want to be rude so he didn’t just shut her down. He also didn’t just tell me so I could have shut her down which I would have loved to have done. So here is the interesting thing before I continue on with the story. If it were a girl in A.’s position, and the lady was a dude being super aggressive and handsy, the girl would have been more likely to say something or to involve the bartender. Or I, as a bartender, would have stepped in and told him to back off. But there is this idea that guys can take care of themselves. Not only does the general population feel this way due to societal conditioning, but guys think that they should be able to handle things on their own. But there is absolutely nothing different between a woman rubbing a man’s legs against his will and a man rubbing a woman’s legs against her will. The only difference is that this dude was afraid to physically force her to stop because he might come across as aggressive, and was also too embarrassed to ask for help. Societal gender norms blow, basically. Moving on.
Fast forward through hours of this woman talking to this guy, and apparently being all sexually aggressive, and hours of me making bitch face with the girl at the bar and turning up the volume on the game to try and drown out the lady’s constant talking. A. paid his tab and decided to leave. And by leave, I mean go to the bar next door to watch the end of the game in peace and safety. The lady tried to buy him another drink.
Lady: Get him another one.
Me: No, he’s good
Lady: No he isn’t. He’s my friend. Get him one on my tab.
Me: No, he’s leaving now.
A. smiled a smile of relief and headed out the door. At this moment the food runner delivered the chocolate shake that I had ordered for one of my customers. Also at this moment the lady decided she wanted her tab.
Lady: Close me out.
Me: Okay, I am in the middle of something so just as soon as I am done…
Lady: I don’t care what you’re doing. I want my tab.
Me: Lady, I am holding a chocolate milkshake. I am going to give this to the woman who ordered it and then I will come back and give you your tab
Lady: You didn’t seem to have a problem serving me 5 glasses of wine and now you won’t give me my tab?!
Me: I AM HOLDING A MILKSHAKE!
I then went and delivered the milkshake. When I came back, the lady was talking shit about me to another customer. When they customer told the lady that she thought she was being entirely unreasonable and that I was holding a milkshake when she asked for her tab the lady got all irate.
Lady: Don’t defend her! You don’t even know her! She is a bitch and we could have been friends!
Me: Um…I can hear you?
Lady: I don’t care! Give me my tab you bitch!
And this is when I lost my shit. I honestly don’t even remember everything that I said but it went something along the lines of this:
Lady, look around. You are not the only person in this bar even though you’d like to believe that you are. Honestly, I would like nothing more than to give you your tab and for you to leave. In fact, I wish you would have left earlier! You gave this entire fucking bar a collective headache!
I then cursed a few times. I distinctly remembering the words “mother fucker” coming out of my mouth at least once.
She then started yelling at me about how it was my choice to serve her 5 glasses of wine. I pointed out that I had actually only served her 4 but that I was charging her for 5 anyway since she was so convinced she drank that many. She wasn’t listening. I charged her for 5. I then asked her to smile for the camera so I could send her picture to my manager so we would all know who to never allow back in again. I then got security. The lady then stood outside and SCREAMED at the security guard, who is about 5 times her size, for the next 1/2 hour plus. She tried to start fights with other customers. She then called the cops. All because I was holding a chocolate milkshake. I just don’t know, you guys. It takes all kinds.
franklyrebekah 
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