Here are just a few examples of the shitstorm of stupidity I encountered New Years Day, 2013. (Mind you, I polished off the previous night blacking out after double fisting a bottle of wine and a liter of Crown Black... Yeah.)
First customer of the day was a woman. Nothing to scream about, entirely average, and did not put off an air of dis-intelligence upon first glance. Oh, boy, was I wrong.
She steps up to the bar and here is the conversation that followed between me and Ms. Ditz:
Ditz: "Hi! Yes, I would like a Starfucker, but as a drink. No ice though. Chilled, but without any ice in it."
Me after looking at her for a second and a half wondering did she really just say that: "Yeah, sure! It's still a shot though..." *stare*
This was my first drink order of the night. My first flippin' customer! I swear, sometimes I wish I had a cloned Bill Engvall to pop up whenever statements like this are made to say, "Here's your sign."That was my first encounter of the idiot kind for the day, but it was definitely not the last.
Idiot number two was an encounter that not only did I have the pleasure of conversating with, but so did the rest of the staff that night, as well as a couple bar regulars. This guy was (supposedly) on a date or meeting of some kind with a mildly attractive female... Or so I thought until she left after an hour and he remained behind to torment us all. Oh my baby Jesus, was there torment. He figures out my name at some point earlier in the night, and decides to nickname me Lollipop for the remainder of the evening. Here is the conversation that followed his companion's exodus:
Dumbfuck: "Hey, Lollipop, I want to ask you a personal question, I am having a problem and need some advice..."
Me while DF is still midsentence: "Why?"
DF: "Yeah... I am having a lot of trouble, wait, did you just say 'Why?'"
Me: "Yeah, I did. Why do you need to ask me?"
DF: Man, that is really discouraging..."
Me trying not to be a total bitch even though he is about to pour his entire personal life and problems into a complete stranger's lap: *laughs a bit to lighten mood* "Ok, man. What's your issue that you need advice on?"
DF: *sighs and laughs as well* "You see, Lollipop, is there something wrong with me? I can't quite figure out what's wrong..." *grins like an idiot*
*I stare blankly*
DF continues: "Why can't I find a woman? Is there something wrong with me? *shakes head* I don't know..." *he grins like an idiot the entire time btw*
*I continue to stare blankly*
Me: "Well, (because I couldn't think of anything else to say) you're not ugly or fat, so I guess you have that going for you..." (but you're a fucking retard that is seeking life advice from a complete stranger, that might be the problem?)
DF laughs: "Thanks for not calling me fat or ugly, I guess, haha. Man, I should talk to you for an hour..."
Me: "Are you gonna pay me?"
DF: "What? For what?"
Me: "Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you wanted a therapy session. Are you gonna pay me for it?"
DF laughs, I laugh...
But, I was completely fucking serious!
The conversation went on for another few minutes of this poor sap trying to seek heartfelt advice and comfort in the Theraputic smile of the hot chic behind the bar, and I am absolutely not playing into it at all... In fact, I am fucking with this guy as much as possible, because well, he deserves it! Who came up with the idea that the bartender is your closest friend, confidant and therapist? I make $2.13 a fucking hour. Not nearly enough to put up with your life drama. I don't care that you can't find a decent girl. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you are a moron? Throw a hundo down on the bar, and maybe I'll consider giving you some sound advice: The simple fact that you asked if something was wrong with you states the obvious, Something is Wrong with You.
I really was laughing most of the time inside my head as this Dumbfuck poured out his pathetic heart to me. He really was trying hard for a reassuring statement. I'm sorry, Dude. I have been in this business for far too long to smile simply because I am expected to. I do not know you. I do not really know why you can't get laid. I have absolutely NO interest in getting to know you in order to find out the answer to your problem. You probably already know what the answer is, but you are seeking affirmation from me, an outsider, and a female, for some unknown reason... No, I will not sleep with you either.
To put it simply, I Do Not Care.
I Am Not A Therapist.
You Are Not Paying Me Enough For This Shit.
Now, do not get me wrong, if some stranger comes at me with a legitimate problem, I will attempt to help, as I have done many times, But, if you are a straight up idiot like this guy, then I'm going to call you out.
The best part of this conversation was when he saw his defeat in purpose reflected in my eyes and turned his attention to my rather attractive friend and bar regular. He was trying so hard... He asked her how old she was, and said that she had pretty hair.
DF: "Hey you have cool hair. Take your helmet off so I can see it."
Me and CuteBarReg together say: "It's not a helmet..."
She was wearing a fuzzy hoodie.
Helmet, Wtf??
He continued to torture her, then proceeded to the inside bar to try his luck with those poor ladies, but eventually left the bar, utterly defeated. Poor guy. (not really...)
There were a few more occurances throughout the night of random acts of idiocy, like a couple loitering around the front door for fifteen minutes, proceed to my patio, and excitedly ask if the inside bar is open. "Yeah, it is. The door is right over there, where you just came from..."
Overall the night was entertaining. Being sorely hungover at work paid off for once because it properly enabled me to deal with all of the nonsense.
Shenanigans. Pure Shenanigans.
"Here's your sign."
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