Posts Tagged ‘draft system’

GULPU Quick Tips

February 11, 2012

The craze over GULPU.com has reached a fevered pitch. We are so overwhelmed with your submissions we still haven’t had the opportunity to launch the official website. We beg of you to remain patient. With the help of our parent company GuerillaDeSwine Productions we are currently interviewing web designers to get GULPU.com off the ground. We haven’t had any luck yet. The interview usually falls apart right around the swimsuit competition which is the ninth stage of the official GuerillaDeSwine Productions hiring process. Never fear we are confident that we will come across the right designer to bring GULPU.com to life. Anyone interested please send your resume plus head shots to HR@GuerillaDeSwineProductions.com with the headline of GULPU.com web monkey.

In the meantime we at GULPU.com have come to realize that since we understand what it means to be a shitty customer it is our moral duty to offer hints to help the general public as to how they can improve themselves as consumers. It is our goal to eliminate ignorant and rude behavior completely from the business world. In order to do this we compiled a team of experts the likes of which this world has never seen. We locked these experts in a room without windows and fed them raw meat and booze for seven hours a day for seven days. As a result they came up with three tips to help the general public be better at getting served.

It all starts with common sense. We all have it, allegedly, so use it. If you order a well done burger, don’t complain that it is overcooked. Check that; don’t order a well done burger. If there isn’t any food left on your plate you probably won’t be receiving a refund, so don’t bother asking. Long Island Iced Teas are strong so if you order one and then complain that it is too strong that complaint will most likely fall upon deaf ears. When at a bar have both your ID and money out. Competent bartenders take pride in getting you your drink as fast as possible and would appreciate the same common courtesy. Nothing frustrates a bartender more than watching some fucktard dig through their wallet for five minutes searching for payment for a product that’s already delivered. That sort of stupidity is a good way to get ignored for the duration of your evening.

Next up is politeness. Unfortunately due to the high number of parents who are intellectually ill-equipped to raise a child the notion of being polite has been lost on several generations of customers. Being polite is simple and is always more pleasurable then being rude. What that means is don’t whistle or snap your fingers, don’t bang on the bar, don’t roll your empty bottle around and don’t wave money in people’s faces. Don’t yell, and more importantly certainly don’t yell baby, bro, barkeep, wench or garcon. Now, most of the people dumb enough to do stuff like that truly believe that not only are they funny but that they are endearing themselves to the person who is serving them. That is a lie and acting like a jackass will never get you anything but skipped.

Lastly, please don’t ask stupid questions. We can’t stress how important this particular quick tip is. When you ask a stupid question not only does someone have to take the time to listen to your asinine question, but they then have to offer an answer that will be a failed attempt at not embarrassing you. Our experts came up with several examples.

A man approaches the bar. He nods over to the jukebox.

“Does your jukebox play music?”

Another guy walks up to a bar with fifty taps.

“Do you guys sell pints of beer?”

A girl calls the restaurant on Christmas Day and upon someone answering the phone asks, “Are you guys open?”

This may sound like a logical way to find out if a place is open on a holiday, but I assure you that someone isn’t at work on a day the business is closed answering the phone just to tell people they aren’t open. If someone is there to answer the phone that means the place is open.

We know that some of you with actual working brains will say that these rules seem like they are easy enough to be left unspoken. Unfortunately for every one person who gets it there are ten bros lined up right behind you ready to make our lives miserable. We at GULPU.com urge people to share these rules with their friends so that we as a society can improve the lives of service industry people everywhere.

Dave A., Mira Mesa, CA. GULPU.COM

January 28, 2012

A guy walks up to the bar wearing skinny jeans and a V-neck shirt cut just low enough so you can see a portion of his chest tattoo which is undoubtedly the lyrics to some terrible Dave Matthews song. With a skinny mustache to match his kid’s size small jeans this guy has set my hipster alert for the day to a code orange. It’s busy and we are about four rows of customers deep. I am helping the customer next to him. As I am taking this person’s order the hipster interrupts. I ignore him but he does it again. I let him know I am helping someone else and that I will be with him in one moment. He is annoyed. I help three more people who have been waiting longer before I return to him.

“Finally”, he mutters under his breath.

“Excuse me?” I ask.

“Nothing. Give me a beer.”

“Okay. What beer?”

I point over my shoulder at my 50 tap draft system.

“Holy shit. You guys got a lot of beer.”

My patience wears thin as more customers pile up at my bar.

“You want a beer list?” I ask.

“I don’t do lists,” he says as he waves his hand in my face. “Just give me your favorite.”

“What style?”

“Doesn’t matter bro. I love all types of beer.”

I pour the most expensive beer I have on tap.

“That will be eight dollars. “

I go to help the guy next to him, but apparently the hipster has decided to string order me.

“I need a Newcastle and a vodka and tonic also,” he interrupts.

I finish taking the other person’s order before returning to the hipster.

“A Newcastle and Vodka and Tonic? Who are those for?”

“What?”

“Who are you ordering those drinks for? “

“My friends.”

“I need to see their ID’s.”

“Oh, no, they’re for me.”

“Go get your fucking friends.”

“Fine, watch my beer.”

I help five people in the time it takes him to return. He hands me two ID’s. I look around. His friends aren’t with him. I fight the urge to take his beer back and just ignore him for the rest of the evening.

“I need to see them as well as their ID’s.”

“Come on,” he says as he points at the ID’s, “They’re like thirty.”

“I would love to take your word for it, but I need to make sure the ID’s match the people.”

“Fine, watch my beer.”

I help ten people before he returns with his two friends. I verify the ID’s and go pour their drinks. When I return the hipster has his back to the bar and is engrossed in conversation with his friends.

“Here you go man,” I say as I place the drinks down on the bar.

He doesn’t respond. I repeat myself, this time louder. His friends get his attention. He turns to me.

“Eighteen dollars.”

“Start me a tab.”

“Cool, I just need a credit card.”

“Oh no, I want to pay cash.”

“You can’t run a tab then.”

“Why not?”

“Cuz you need a credit card to run a tab.”

“Just cash me out then.”

“Eighteen dollars.”

I feel the eyes of countless customers concentrated on me as the hipster struggles to pull his wallet out of his pocket because his skinny jeans are too small. When he finally gets his wallet out he slides me a twenty. On my way to the register I take three people’s orders. I return with the hipsters change and he is chatting to a girl who has just walked up. He takes his change.

“She wants a margarita on the rocks with salt.”

I make the drinks for the people I helped on my way to the register first, all of which takes thirty seconds. I make the margarita and hand it to him. He has put the two dollars back into his wallet and the girl already has a margarita in front of her. When he sees the second drink he points at the bartender I am working with.

“He got me.”

“You ordered from me.”

“I thought you forgot about me.”

I walk away and dump the margarita I just made. I help several more people before the hipster waves me down. He points at his beer.

“This is gross. Just give me a Michelob Ultra instead.”

“You told me you liked all beer.”

“I do, but not that.”

“As it states on our beer list we don’t take returns on beer.”

“I told you I don’t do lists bro.”

The urge to grab him by the back of his head and slam his face into the bar is nearly blinding. I decide instead to cut my losses.

“If I give you a Michelob Ultra will you go away?”

He nods. I give him his beer and he still doesn’t tip. In the future when my hipster alert reaches such a high level I will have a Michelob Ultra and my middle finger ready.


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