it was an ass hat sort of day
saturday night at the bar was the sort of night that makes you want to stab someone in the eyeball.
it started with the kid in the yellow shirt, who stared at me impatiently as i took care of a couple that had walked up to the bar just before him. when the couple was all set, i turned my attention to the (very young looking) kid, and asked him how he was doing. it went like this:
me: how're you doing tonight?
him: i want a miller lite.
me, inwardly: that good, huh? oh, and i'm fine. THANKS FOR ASKING.
me, audibly: ok, i just need to see your ID, hun.
him: (motioning toward the couple, and sneering) you didn't check their IDs!
me: yes, i did.
him: well i didn't see you.
me: ok, you're cut off.
****
i'm sure he probably said something we would have found humorous after that, but i don't know because i walked away.
i mean, first you're going to call me out on my job performance, and then you're going to admit that you can't remember seeing something that happened right in front of your nose less than two minutes before?
****
next came the guy who wanted me to f@#* him up the a$#.
no, i'm not kidding.
i was just behind the bar, minding my own business, when a very attractive man with a mullet and a brightly colored bud light t-shirt from the 80's walked up.
him: (sleazily) what's your name?
me: (hands on hips, of course) what's YOUR name?
him: my name doesn't matter.
me: well, my name doesn't matter, either.
him: your name DOES matter, because i'll need to know it when i yell for another beer.
me, inwardly: i love my job.
he then extends his hand across the bar, and says his name. i oblige, tell him my name and reach to shake his hand. unfortunately, the hand he has offered is what my sister and i like to call 'the dead fish hand.' you know, he didn't do anything with it. it was just hanging there. it was not a handshake.
men do this to women a lot, and i find it infuriating. now, i know a number of men who think it's inappropriate to shake a woman's hand the same way you shake a man's hand, to which i say WAKE UP AND SMELL THE NEW MILLENIUM. but, even they are better than this guy. when these guys reach to shake your hand, they actually take your hand and turn it a little, sometimes placing their other hand on top of yours as you exchange whatever social niceity the situation calls for. the point is, SOMETHING HAPPENS. sure, they don't really shake your hand, but they don't reach for a handshake and DO NOTHING. which is exactly what this guy did. i hate that crap. can you tell? but, whatever. end of handshake, back to the story.
me: so, what can i get for you?
him: i'll take a labatt. how much will that be?
me: $3.75
him: you've got to be kidding me!
me: um, no. sorry. do you still want it.
him: well, i don't know where else to go, so i'll take it.
it should be noted here that there are a million and two bars around. although i don't think any of them have cheaper beer.
i turn around to pour his beer, and he turns to the random guy seated next to him at the bar.
him (to the random guy he doesn't even know): she might as well bend me over and fuck me up the ass for $3.75.
me: sir! i can still hear you!
him: don't worry honey, i wasn't talking to you.
me, handing him his beer: $3.75, please.
this statement was accompanied by what i imagine was a VERY, VERY bitchy glare of hatefulness and wrath.
he went away for a while then, but about a half an hour later i saw him trying to get my attention at the far end of my bar.
him: i'll take another labatt.
me: are you going to swear at me again?
him: what?
me, louder: are you going to swear at me again?
him: i never swore at you!
me: you said that i might as well fuck you up the ass, because you thought your beer was too expensive.
him: i would never say something like that!
me: sir, you just said it 30 minutes ago.
him: no i didn't.
me: you're cut off.
****
don't you wish you had my job?
it started with the kid in the yellow shirt, who stared at me impatiently as i took care of a couple that had walked up to the bar just before him. when the couple was all set, i turned my attention to the (very young looking) kid, and asked him how he was doing. it went like this:
me: how're you doing tonight?
him: i want a miller lite.
me, inwardly: that good, huh? oh, and i'm fine. THANKS FOR ASKING.
me, audibly: ok, i just need to see your ID, hun.
him: (motioning toward the couple, and sneering) you didn't check their IDs!
me: yes, i did.
him: well i didn't see you.
me: ok, you're cut off.
****
i'm sure he probably said something we would have found humorous after that, but i don't know because i walked away.
i mean, first you're going to call me out on my job performance, and then you're going to admit that you can't remember seeing something that happened right in front of your nose less than two minutes before?
****
next came the guy who wanted me to f@#* him up the a$#.
no, i'm not kidding.
i was just behind the bar, minding my own business, when a very attractive man with a mullet and a brightly colored bud light t-shirt from the 80's walked up.
him: (sleazily) what's your name?
me: (hands on hips, of course) what's YOUR name?
him: my name doesn't matter.
me: well, my name doesn't matter, either.
him: your name DOES matter, because i'll need to know it when i yell for another beer.
me, inwardly: i love my job.
he then extends his hand across the bar, and says his name. i oblige, tell him my name and reach to shake his hand. unfortunately, the hand he has offered is what my sister and i like to call 'the dead fish hand.' you know, he didn't do anything with it. it was just hanging there. it was not a handshake.
men do this to women a lot, and i find it infuriating. now, i know a number of men who think it's inappropriate to shake a woman's hand the same way you shake a man's hand, to which i say WAKE UP AND SMELL THE NEW MILLENIUM. but, even they are better than this guy. when these guys reach to shake your hand, they actually take your hand and turn it a little, sometimes placing their other hand on top of yours as you exchange whatever social niceity the situation calls for. the point is, SOMETHING HAPPENS. sure, they don't really shake your hand, but they don't reach for a handshake and DO NOTHING. which is exactly what this guy did. i hate that crap. can you tell? but, whatever. end of handshake, back to the story.
me: so, what can i get for you?
him: i'll take a labatt. how much will that be?
me: $3.75
him: you've got to be kidding me!
me: um, no. sorry. do you still want it.
him: well, i don't know where else to go, so i'll take it.
it should be noted here that there are a million and two bars around. although i don't think any of them have cheaper beer.
i turn around to pour his beer, and he turns to the random guy seated next to him at the bar.
him (to the random guy he doesn't even know): she might as well bend me over and fuck me up the ass for $3.75.
me: sir! i can still hear you!
him: don't worry honey, i wasn't talking to you.
me, handing him his beer: $3.75, please.
this statement was accompanied by what i imagine was a VERY, VERY bitchy glare of hatefulness and wrath.
he went away for a while then, but about a half an hour later i saw him trying to get my attention at the far end of my bar.
him: i'll take another labatt.
me: are you going to swear at me again?
him: what?
me, louder: are you going to swear at me again?
him: i never swore at you!
me: you said that i might as well fuck you up the ass, because you thought your beer was too expensive.
him: i would never say something like that!
me: sir, you just said it 30 minutes ago.
him: no i didn't.
me: you're cut off.
****
don't you wish you had my job?
posted by tiffany at 7:20 PM
6 Comments:
These are the posts that remind me why I got out of restaurants. I sometimes forget and miss it. Because, you know, in an office its frowned upon to start doing a bad MC Hammer dance and my bosses never call me crackhead to my face. I miss that!
I wish I could cut off my customers.
Me: Hi, we're working on (name of project) for you, and I was wondering if you had a chance to look at the menus we sent you.
Them: Menus?
Me: Yep, we sent them to you last week. Motion menus for your project.
Them: Oh, those.
Me: So are we approved?
Them: What? Oh, no. You didn't use our approved artwork.
Me: You never sent us approved artwork.
Them: That's because we don't have it yet.
Me: When will you be able to get it to us?
Them: Next week sometime.
Me: Your project is due next week.
Them: Yeah. How late can we get you the approved artwork that you won't miss the due date?
Me: I would have liked it last week.
Them: Oh, and we forgot to order the subtitles. And the director decided he wants to record a commentary track. Those will be coming sometime next week, too.
Me: That's it. You're cut off.
I would very quickly not have any customers left.
that is going to be my new line everytime anybody annoys me.
stupid annoying girl in my class: you're cut off.
crazy long line at unibooks: you're cut off.
lecturer who doesn't know if its 400 or 1500 words: you're cut off.
No! No I don't wish I had your job! In fact, evrytime I read about your job, I am suprememly thankful I don't have it. At least you do have the cutting someone off option - I guess you can hang onto that.
LOL I'm with d.b., it sounds fun to cut off customers! I would love to have that authority.
You do seem to have a sucky job though. I canNOT stand the utter stupidity of people these days, so I don't think I'd last too long at your job.
I would just LOVE to work with animals - they can't speak.
Oh, dear. I spoke too soon. Turns out I'm the one who's been cut off.
That entire dialogue I posted in my first comment is based on an actual DVD project that I was working on in my (now former) place of employment. I wonder how they'll resolve the situation? Not my problem anymore!
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