I never lose my composure, but I almost lost my reference

Because that’s what happens when the owner, who stands swaying back and forth from drinking too much, tells you that you should have “checked with him” before delivering a “you’re done now” check to the DRUNK, BELLIGERENT, SHIT STARTER who has caused a scene in this restaurant before.

THE FUCK, DUDE?  I was hired to run your bar.  That includes assessing customers and cutting off when necessary.  And when this fat (drunk) bitch starts throwing napkins (her favorite past time) I KNOW that this is just the opening act to the larger shit show.  People STILL TALK ABOUT HER ADULT MELTDOWN ALMOST A YEAR AGO.  People still talk about that.  I still laugh with a regular couple who comes in when she propositioned them for some freaky 3 way after the bar.  Gross.  This woman is a problem.  So when I ASK YOU THAT SHE JUST NOT BE ALLOWED IN ANYMORE and you tell me that its “uncalled for” I interpret that as “I value her patronage more than your employment”.

Ya’ll were right to frantically search for me and see if my purse was still there, cause I almost ALMOST just walked out.  I’m not gonna sit there and be harassed by drunk customers who will most certainly start raising their voice and disrupting your Friday night crowd and have the owner DEFEND them.

AND THEN HAVE THE AUDACITY to TEXT me and say she is “gone”  “lol.”   “it’s safe to come back”

SAFE TO COME BACK?!  First of all, how fucking patronizing.  Secondly, I am not away from the bar because of HER I am away from the bar because I am assessing how bad I need this job and reference.  I eat drunk motherfuckers for BREAKFAST.  I could give a FUCK.  I’ve been bartending for 5 fucking years, serving for 6 more..I have had people scream at me..threaten me.  I’ve jumped in the middle of bar fights.  Some fat, sad, alcoholic teacher is not gonna phase me.  Perhaps you had a moment of clarity between your Jameson presbetyrians that “Oh SHIT..I don’t have much staff and Val is kinda the main bartender for the better part of the week”

Yeah, I am.  I’m here 4 nights a week locking up your doors, turning off your lights, taking care of your money and setting your alarm, but fuck me, right?

*Standing at the computer closing a check, and I see something out of the corner of my eye:  dinner napkins thrown behind the bar*



*hands over the check*

-i’m FINE

“You know we don’t do that here”


“And yet you keep coming back ?!”


Sorry, I can’t give you a plastic cup of ice.

-Oh, do you not have cups?  I can go get my own!

No, it’s not that.  One of our servers said they saw you drinking out of the back of your truck in the parking lot.


So, I can’t in good conscience give you a cup of ice knowing you’re going to pour yourself a drink in the parking lot, or god forbid in your car and then drive away.

-You guys don’t want me drinking on your parking lot?

Um, no.  Generally.. no.

Fire; hot, lemon; tart…

“I’d like a lemon drop”

-Ok…a shot, or a martini?

“A martini.  And no sugar”

-No sugar at all?

“No I don’t like it too sweet.”

-So all you want is vodka and lemon juice?


I bring her the martini and carry on with my other duties.  She waves me down a bit later to ask for a sugar packet because it is “tart”.


YOU DON’T SAY??!?!?!%#$&?%^&


Worked a party last night.  It was supposed to be 40-50 people.  It ended up being 14 adults and 6 kids.  It was fun watching the kids run around.  Watching them whip, then nae nae.  But then I realized it was like 8:45.  And the party was supposed to be over 45 minutes ago.  Not that we were closing, but it was becoming time to transition to a proper Saturday night bar.  But they just didn’t give a FUCK.  Kids are running around, shoes off.  A couple people walked down, took one look at the game of duck, duck, goose happening on the dance floor and turned right the fuck back around.  This is not good for business or our image.

Then, THEN…. I turn around and notice that some of the kids look different.  They’ve changed clothes.  They are in pajamas.  THE PARENTS BROUGHT PAJAMAS FOR THEM TO CHANGE INTO.  What??  This was some premeditated shit.  They knew they were gonna be here late as fuck with their kids treating the bar like the McDonald’s play place.  And you can’t even say anything because they are friends of friends of the owner and some guy who used to work here.  Ugh.

Then my friends cousin came in, and it was nice to chat with someone I know.  But at the end of the night she left a 10% tip.  Why.

Oh, and this conversation with some retard on coke:

-let me get a cranberry vodka

“Ok, $6.50..did you want to start a tab or pay cash?”

-what? yeah.  um.  put it on a tab *waving his hand at me*

“Ok, I need a credit card for a tab.”

-can i pay cash?

“Of course”

-just put it on a tab *starts tweaking with his hand*

“I need a card for a tab”

-just put it on a tab

“You need to either pay cash as you go, or give me a card”


“In case you walk out”


“Yeah.  It’s what we do here, sorry”

-fine  i’ll pay cash

“Ok, $6.50”

-*fumbles around looking for cash and rolling his eyes*

“Why is this a problem?  It’s a real thing that happens in bars all across America.  You order a drink, you pay for it.  That’s how it works.”

-*practically throws a 20 at me* HERE YOU GO

“Thanks.  Here’s your change.”

-thank you SO much *tweak* *sarcasm*

“Great, thanks.  Listen.  This isn’t over.  We’re probably gonna have to go through this again when you want your next one.”

I don’t know if he was retarded, on drugs, or both.  But, his friends were both laughing their asses off at me and apologizing profusely.  I came this close to telling him to get the fuck out, but I’m a patient girl.



Saturday circus

Wow, Okay..where do I begin to recap on last night’s shift?  Do I start with the crotchety old lady who asked for a vodka martini with a double shot?  Whatever the fuck that means.  A martini is in and of itself a double shot to begin with.  The only closer way to get just pure alcohol in a bar is for me to just pour from the bottle directly into your face hole.  And then she asks for a bigger martini glass.  Sorry, lady, that’s the size.   And it’s a FINE size, too.  It’s a good half ounce bigger than most bars to be honest.  What do you want from me?  You want cocktail glasses the size of your fucking head?  Go to Las Vegas bitch.  This is an Irish pub.

Or how about the cunt who asks me about our cocktail menu, specifically:  Which is better–The Moscow Mule, or the Dark & Stormy?  Well, I prefer the Dark & Stormy I tell her, because ginger beer is very bite-y and little too strong for me..whereas with the mule the vodka is a neutral and doesn’t do much to balance the ginger beer taste.  I make her the drink and a few moments later I can hear her talking shit about it to her husband, saying all she can taste is ginger beer.  Now, we are very generous here at my bar with our drinks.  We don’t short people.  If anything, we give a little more than we should.  So, I go over and pour her a small taste of just the ginger beer.  Here’s what just the ginger beer tastes like..go on, compare.  I’m sure you’ll find a difference.  I walk away and leave it at that.  Until I find another bartender walking away with her drink, so I interject.  I’m frustrated now.  I tell her —  it’s not supposed to just taste like rum.  It’s got ginger beer, it’s got fresh lime, all these things in play.  It’s supposed to be a balanced drink.  “Well, I know what a Dark & Stormy should taste like”.  Yeah, really bitch?  You do?  Then why were you asking me about the two drinks from the start.  You’re unfamiliar with them or you’re the Dark & Stormy expert?  Which one is it??

Then this fucking guy wants to give us a hard time because he wanted to pay for all 4 of his friends, and somehow in the mix one of them strayed from the group and created their own tab.  Okay, well, there are 3 of us back here and one is very new and still training.  Sorry about the mistake.  I’ll get you his tab.  “Well, I made it VERY clear” he says,  Yes, sorry about that, there are 3 of us back here and there was a misunderstanding.   “Well, I already paid a tab of 90 dollars.”   Okay, well I don’t know what to say about that.  What point are you attempting to make?  You wanna be a big shot and pay for everyone the shit costs money.  Do you want this guy’s tab or not? For fuck’s sake.

And for the grand finale, a regular customer threw a full on adult temper tantrum at the bar.  Well, technically she threw coasters, beverage napkins, her credit card and the check presenter.  Screaming her fucking head off because I passed her empty glass up a few times.  Well, missy…  (A) you’ve had about 7 beers which is your limit and then some.  It was probably time to stop anyway, lest we have another night with you puking on the bathroom floor.   Or have you forgotten that night?  and (B) when I tried to get you your beer, you shooed me away and said you wanted the attractive male bartender to serve you.  So which one is it????  You want me to serve you, or are you going around to his side of the bar like you said you were going to?  She’s fucking screaming about how she just spent 80 “fucking” dollars in here.  LIKE I GIVE A FUCK?  Why do people try and cry about the money they spent?  I didn’t make you do that. You purchased a product and consumed it on your own free will..why does that mean that we owe you something?? Either way, you’re a fucking embarrassment.  Get your fucking life together.

it’s not easy always being right, but someone has to do it

Ooooooooohhh … There is nothing I hate more than not being supported by my co-worker in the battle of the belligerent.  And, playing the “when mommy says no, ask daddy” game.

So, when I say that someone is “in bad shape” I usually mean it.  Just because this bimbo worked here for a short time like 4 years ago doesn’t give her the green light to act like a drunken fool.  It doesn’t look good for the bar, and it’s unsafe for her and everyone around her.

But that’s cool, just keep serving her.  I’ll just stand over here and enjoy the show.  Look, she’s dancing against the wall.  Oops, watch out for the bar stool honey.  Good thing your friend was there to barely help you up.  Slap fight in the middle of the dining room?  Saw that one coming a mile away..

Maybe we will just wait for someone to die before we rethink how we serve people.  My hands are tied and I fucking hate it.

Someone Like You

In personal news, a group of co-workers from the place I ditched out on came into my new (old) bar of employment. At first, I cringed, but in the end it was good to talk to them and explain my side of the story. They said they all miss me and the business is currently looking for someone like me. Then, why push me out with a shitty attitude and a shitty schedule? I don’t understand the world.