Posts Tagged ‘fruit caddy’

Every Night Amateur

July 14, 2012

The term amateur night is usually used to describe New Year’s Eve. It is the one night a year where everybody who never goes to the bar decides that New Year’s is the night to do so. Any veteran drinker knows to stay away from even their most regular of establishments on such a night to avoid being surrounded by virginal bar goers spewing curdled car bombs all over the bar as they blow furiously on squeaky noise makers.

I’m here to say that it’s not just on New Year’s Eve that you, the general drunken public, should be wary of amateurs. On a nightly and on some nights an hourly basis I witness people doing some really stupid shit that makes you wonder whether or not they are mentally challenged in some way. Unfortunately they usually aren’t. It is much more likely that they are every night amateurs.

Every night amateurs behave in a manner that suggests that they have never been to a bar before in their entire life. This is not true. These people have been to bars before and some of them on a semi-regular basis. Despite this they still don’t realize that there is a certain way you are supposed to act in a public setting where alcohol is being served.

For example don’t bang on the bar, ever. Never reach into my fruit caddy or you will feel the wrath of my iron clad bottle opener, also known as Excalibur, which has bruised the shit out of many a fruit stealing fingers. When you approach a bar always have your id and money ready so that a transaction that should only take thirty seconds doesn’t turn into a five minute ordeal. If you don’t want to be labeled an every night amateur then use common sense and realize that if a bartender overhears you telling the total stranger sitting next you that he is over tipping, you most likely will never get served at that bar again.

The latest every night amateur trend seems to be ordering a drink and then walking away. That way when I return with their drink they are nowhere to be found. Nothing is more frustrating to a bartender who is busy then to have to seek a customer out to serve them. I’m not sure of the logic behind walking away after placing an order. It’s not like it’s going to take me fifteen minutes to fill a glass with some ice and some vodka cranberry. I didn’t give you a number and tell you we would call you over the loudspeaker when your order was up so why in the hell would you ever walk away right after asking me to make you something that takes fifteen seconds?

Every night amateurs come in couples some times. You can spot them because they will be the unattractive pair sloppily making out while sitting at the bar with no regard for anyone who happens to be around them. Drunken public displays of affection are the worst kind. Not only are they sloppy but they are noisy so that every smack of lips, lick of tongues or gnashing of teeth can be heard by anyone within five stools of the nasty couple. Visible tongue twisting and neck slurping can cause many a stomachs to turn. The worst is when this already disgusting display of every night amateur foreplay leads to an under the jacket hand job. When this occurs it must be stopped immediately or else spilled beer and melted water won’t be the only substances staining your bar.

The older an every night amateur is the more difficult they are to deal with. They have been acting like jackasses in public for so long that they actually believe that their behavior is acceptable. This makes every action of an older every night amateur much more extreme. What that means is they will be louder, dumber and more offensive than possibly any person you have ever come across. That also means that when they start making out with whatever other ancient fossil they come across who happens to be just as horny as them that their drunken public display of affection will always end with either an 86ing or a bar sprayed down with elderly semen.

We as bar employees deserve some blame for the high number of older every night amateurs that are out there. If they have been acting in such a moronic way for so long that means somebody somewhere should have said something like, “Hey asshole how about you stop whistling and calling me sweet cheeks or else I’m going to rip your tongue out of your mouth and smack the shit out of you with it.” Any bar owner who doesn’t allow his or her staff to properly police and educate the animal-like behavior that goes on at every bar in the world is doing you, the general drunken public, a disservice. If you don’t call an every night amateur out they will act like a dickbag for the rest of their lives and most likely raise a family of half-wit dickbags that will terrorize innocent bar employees and regulars until the end of time.

The worst offense an every night amateur can perform is the defamation of a check book or credit card receipt. If you don’t want to tip that’s fine, there is a special restaurant in hell you will be waiting tables at when you die, but being cheap is your right. However, vulgarities of any kind found on company property are unacceptable. That means that slipping a condom in a checkbook, drawing a penis or making obscene comments or simply writing fuck you on a credit card receipt will be met with swift action. Disrespectful behavior such as that is an abomination wrapped in an abomination marinated in hot sauce topped with melted Gouda served on a cheese cracker and should result in public humiliation, aggressive 86ing and, possibly, leg breaking.

P.S. BUY MY BOOK LOVE LIFE BY CLICKING THE LOVE LIFE LINK TO THE RIGHT

Jason C., Chicago, IL. GULPU

May 26, 2012

I don’t like to toss the words frosty and bitch around lightly, but sometimes there is no other way to describe certain females. There are just some women who make it a point to be a royal pain in the ass. There are men like that too except we call them a douche bag or asshole or dickbag. The term frosty bitch, however, is one I like to reserve for the fairer sex.

It was college night and we were slammed. I was by myself behind the bar and maintaining pretty well despite the constant stream of server tickets spewing out of my ticket printer. I pulled three tickets and on my way to making those drinks took an order from a couple at the right end of the bar. After placing six drinks in the server window I proceeded to mix the couples drinks. I served them with a smile and moved onto a group of three guys to the left of them.

They all ordered beers and on my way to the draft tower I snagged two more server tickets from the printer. As I was pouring the beers I scanned the bar. Three more server tickets had just printed out. The couple I had just served was good, the guys next to them were the ones I was serving, there was another couple to the left of them who were good and to the left of them was one guy who had just walked up and was patiently waiting with his money in hand.

I put the server’s drinks in the window and then served the three guys their beers. I gave the solo guy the head nod and then proceeded to cash out my current order. As I did that up walks a girl who I could tell from the slam of the front door had literally just walked in. She stood next to the guy I was going to help next and tried to catch my attention by bending over the bar showing her cleavage. I avoided nipple and eye contact and kept moving.

I dropped off the three guys change. Four more server tickets printed out. I approached the guy who had been patiently waiting. Before he could even begin to order this frosty bitch started waving her hand in the air.

“Excuse me I was here first.”

I ignored her and maintained eye contact with the guy. He began to order when again she waved a hand in the air.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I was like here way before him. “

I looked at her. She was in her early thirties but based on her makeup and skankified outfit it was clear she was hoping to pass for twenty-two. Her blatant attempt of looking younger was failing miserably.

“Excuse me Mam, but no you weren’t here first. I will be with you as soon as I help the customers who have been waiting longer.”

“Whatever. A gentleman would help the woman first.”

She then glanced at the guy I was originally trying to help with a crooked smile that smacked of a sickly attempt at seducing him. Instead of being interested in this forward flirt on her part he looked scared and confused. He motioned for me to help her first.

She ordered a lemon drop martini. I chilled her glass and then went about pouring the four server tickets. I placed the drinks in the server window and then began to mix her drink. The guy I had tried to help had walked away.

I put her drink in front of her and told her it would be eight dollars. She gasped in disgust.

“Really? It took long enough. I feel like that’s way too much money.”

She begrudgingly pulled her wallet out of her purse and slid a ten dollar bill across the bar. I gave her the change which she quickly snatched and put away. I saw that the guy I had tried to help before hadn’t left but had simply moved to the other side of the bar.

I went to go help him again when out of the corner of my eye I saw her reach for my fruit caddy. I was able to intervene before she stuck her grubby little hands all over my freshly cut fruit. I politely informed her that her touching my fruit was against health code and made it clear that if she wanted more fruit all she had to do was ask.

“Wow, rude. All I wanted was another lemon,” she said.

I handed her another lemon. The guy ordered a beer. The ticket printer pumped out two more server tickets. They were both beers. I poured them and then as I went to put them in the window I saw this frosty bitch with half her hand buried in the server’s fruit caddy.

I watched as she grabbed a couple of cherries and dropped them in her drink. She then stuck her dirty skank hand back in the caddy. I put the drinks down and slammed the lid of the caddy down on her. She screamed at such a high pitch it sounded like a cat was being tortured. She pulled her hand back and it was full of cherries and lemons.

“I told you not to do that once already. If you do it again I will have to ask you to leave,” I said.

She let out a defiant cackle and then threw the fruit in her hand at me. Before the fruit hit the floor I snatched her drink and threw it away. I then came around the bar and escorted her out. She kicked and screamed and cursed and skanked but her words fell upon deaf ears.

When I returned I was finally able to help the guy who had been waiting so patiently. Once he got his drink he and everyone else that had come in contact with that frosty bitch breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of her leaving.


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