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So yesterday was a somewhat typical Sunday for me. It started earlier than normal, as my niece Princess was in town this weekend, and I took her and her boyfriend out to breakfast. And later, I did what I do just about every Sunday this time of year: I went to a sports bar to watch football and drink beer.
And it started off uneventfully, as I watched my beloved Oakland Raiders win while looking far worse than they looked last week in a loss. I ordered a couple of pitchers of beer from the bartender in that area, no problem. During the late games, I wandered around talking to different people, and actually ended up at a different bar with a different bartender. Not wanting to be rude (and being hungry), I ordered some munchies from her, since I wasn't drinking at her bar.
And as I sat there talking to some friends, things got strange. As the shifts were changing, the second bartender brought me my bill.....for the munchies and a pitcher of beer. Which, if you've been paying attention, you'll notice I had not ordered from her. I politely told her that I had not ordered a pitcher of beer from her, that I had gotten the one I was drinking from the other bartender at the other bar. And she got belligerent with me. "Well, what do you want me to do with this pitcher, just eat the cost of it?" I told her, again politely, that I couldn't tell her why she had a ticket for a pitcher of beer, but it certainly was not mine. She got ruder and louder, demanding that I pay her the full amount, as I HAD gotten a pitcher from her. And that, my friends, is when I lost it. I believe my exact comment to her was "The FUCK I got a pitcher from you!" I was pissed.
Apparently so was she, as she went and got the manager. Who I had been talking to earlier when he was sitting at the bar, watching the game. He asked me why I had told his bartender to "fuck off" or "fuck you" or whatever. I told him I hadn't, explained the situation, and told him precisely what I had said. And told him to feel free to talk to my original bartender about the two pitchers of beer, and to ask a third bartender working there if I was of the type to not pay my tab or abuse bartenders, and to feel free to ask another girl who was there as a customer but who had tended bar there for years if that was my style, etc., etc., etc. When you've been going to the same bar for ten years, you tend to get a reputation, be it good, bad, or in between. I may not be the favorite of some bartenders, but I do not steal from them, nor do I abuse them. Most bartenders in that place that dislike me do so because of my extraordinarily loud method of watching football and cheering for or against various teams.
As it turns out, the belligerent bartender had been drinking all day, and was, it seems, drunker than me with my two imbibed pitchers. Someone told me she even got fired that day, but I cannot confirm that. It didn't look that way to me. Frankly, I didn't want her getting fired, but to sound somewhat cold, I really couldn't care if she was. She was rude, abusive, and trying (whether she realized it or not) to rip me off and make me pay for something I had neither ordered nor received from her.
In the end, I paid for the munchies and tipped her, a good percentage, but far less than I had originally intended to tip her....I was going to take care of her since I had been taking space up at her bar. (NOT, mind you, that the bar was full...it wasn't.) In the end, my philosophy is: fuck her. I will continue to go to that bar, but I will be DAMNED if I ever spend another dime at HER bar, nor give her any of my flippin' money. She can abuse other people, but I am never ordering anything else from her ever again. She can, in essence, kiss my ass.
Other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the theater?
And it started off uneventfully, as I watched my beloved Oakland Raiders win while looking far worse than they looked last week in a loss. I ordered a couple of pitchers of beer from the bartender in that area, no problem. During the late games, I wandered around talking to different people, and actually ended up at a different bar with a different bartender. Not wanting to be rude (and being hungry), I ordered some munchies from her, since I wasn't drinking at her bar.
And as I sat there talking to some friends, things got strange. As the shifts were changing, the second bartender brought me my bill.....for the munchies and a pitcher of beer. Which, if you've been paying attention, you'll notice I had not ordered from her. I politely told her that I had not ordered a pitcher of beer from her, that I had gotten the one I was drinking from the other bartender at the other bar. And she got belligerent with me. "Well, what do you want me to do with this pitcher, just eat the cost of it?" I told her, again politely, that I couldn't tell her why she had a ticket for a pitcher of beer, but it certainly was not mine. She got ruder and louder, demanding that I pay her the full amount, as I HAD gotten a pitcher from her. And that, my friends, is when I lost it. I believe my exact comment to her was "The FUCK I got a pitcher from you!" I was pissed.
Apparently so was she, as she went and got the manager. Who I had been talking to earlier when he was sitting at the bar, watching the game. He asked me why I had told his bartender to "fuck off" or "fuck you" or whatever. I told him I hadn't, explained the situation, and told him precisely what I had said. And told him to feel free to talk to my original bartender about the two pitchers of beer, and to ask a third bartender working there if I was of the type to not pay my tab or abuse bartenders, and to feel free to ask another girl who was there as a customer but who had tended bar there for years if that was my style, etc., etc., etc. When you've been going to the same bar for ten years, you tend to get a reputation, be it good, bad, or in between. I may not be the favorite of some bartenders, but I do not steal from them, nor do I abuse them. Most bartenders in that place that dislike me do so because of my extraordinarily loud method of watching football and cheering for or against various teams.
As it turns out, the belligerent bartender had been drinking all day, and was, it seems, drunker than me with my two imbibed pitchers. Someone told me she even got fired that day, but I cannot confirm that. It didn't look that way to me. Frankly, I didn't want her getting fired, but to sound somewhat cold, I really couldn't care if she was. She was rude, abusive, and trying (whether she realized it or not) to rip me off and make me pay for something I had neither ordered nor received from her.
In the end, I paid for the munchies and tipped her, a good percentage, but far less than I had originally intended to tip her....I was going to take care of her since I had been taking space up at her bar. (NOT, mind you, that the bar was full...it wasn't.) In the end, my philosophy is: fuck her. I will continue to go to that bar, but I will be DAMNED if I ever spend another dime at HER bar, nor give her any of my flippin' money. She can abuse other people, but I am never ordering anything else from her ever again. She can, in essence, kiss my ass.
Other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the theater?
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