I'm sure we've all seen this one. End of a long night, you're finally closed, kill the lights, start cleaning the lobby, and all of a sudden, Moron and the Jackass brigade show up pounding on the door wanting food. Try the "We're closed" routine? Never works. Here's one of my more memorable ones (we were directly next door to a bar in Reno, where the bars have last call whenever they damn well feel like it, btw). I cut out the repetition caused by the fact that I wouldn't open the door to argue with the guy.
(should also be noted that we were slow for the last hour and have everything put away already)
Me= Tired of managing swing shift
CW= Boss's son. Good worker, but... yeah...(driver)
DI= Drunken idiot.
MB= Moron brigade (aka lackeys, cohorts, etc)
DI *banging on glass door*: Open up, I want a saaanddwich!
Me: Sorry, man, we're closed, try a little earlier tomorrow night
DI: Nah, you guys don't close 'till 2!
Me: It's 2:15.... We're closed.
DI *showing me his phone, which he's been messing with the whole time*: No way, it's still only 1:50!
Me: Nope, we close by our clocks, it's a quarter after.
DI: Awwww, c'mon, you can make one more sandwich. *brandishing phone again* It's not even 2 yet.
Me *getting annoyed*: Look, man. Come in on time tomorrow, and I'll make you a sandwich, but I can change the time on my phone too, wouldn't change the fact that we're already closed.
CW: Man, just ignore this loser, let's just get closed.
DI *shouting obscenities, barely coherent*: "I'm gonna tell manager, better open up now, etc."
Me *smiles my most frustrating smile, wave, and get back to mopping.*
DI starts to walk back to the bar*
*CRASH*
MB: DUDE, WE'VE GOTTA GO!!
CW: You've gotta be kidding me.
Me: Did he really just punch out the window?!?
CW: You call the cops, I'm gonna get his license plate.
Anyway, CW got the plate number, I call the cops (who love our place so they were there within minutes) they take the info, and leave. I call the owner and get back to cleaning (double pane window, so only the outside is screwed up). Owner shows up and tries to jury rig a patch for the window with chip boxes and duck tape (love that stuff), causing us both to stay there about an hour and a half longer than we should have had to. Royal pain in the ass.
A few days later, I talk to my owner, who tells me they found the guy at the hospital with his hand cut to ribbons, he has to pay his own hospital bills, plus the window, and now he's banned, so no JJ's goodness for him. Cost me an hour and a half, and him a few thousand dollars. I think I win, even though I was on salary.

Me= Tired of managing swing shift
CW= Boss's son. Good worker, but... yeah...(driver)
DI= Drunken idiot.
MB= Moron brigade (aka lackeys, cohorts, etc)
DI *banging on glass door*: Open up, I want a saaanddwich!
Me: Sorry, man, we're closed, try a little earlier tomorrow night

DI: Nah, you guys don't close 'till 2!
Me: It's 2:15.... We're closed.
DI *showing me his phone, which he's been messing with the whole time*: No way, it's still only 1:50!
Me: Nope, we close by our clocks, it's a quarter after.
DI: Awwww, c'mon, you can make one more sandwich. *brandishing phone again* It's not even 2 yet.
Me *getting annoyed*: Look, man. Come in on time tomorrow, and I'll make you a sandwich, but I can change the time on my phone too, wouldn't change the fact that we're already closed.
CW: Man, just ignore this loser, let's just get closed.
DI *shouting obscenities, barely coherent*: "I'm gonna tell manager, better open up now, etc."
Me *smiles my most frustrating smile, wave, and get back to mopping.*
DI starts to walk back to the bar*
*CRASH*
MB: DUDE, WE'VE GOTTA GO!!
CW: You've gotta be kidding me.
Me: Did he really just punch out the window?!?
CW: You call the cops, I'm gonna get his license plate.
Anyway, CW got the plate number, I call the cops (who love our place so they were there within minutes) they take the info, and leave. I call the owner and get back to cleaning (double pane window, so only the outside is screwed up). Owner shows up and tries to jury rig a patch for the window with chip boxes and duck tape (love that stuff), causing us both to stay there about an hour and a half longer than we should have had to. Royal pain in the ass.
A few days later, I talk to my owner, who tells me they found the guy at the hospital with his hand cut to ribbons, he has to pay his own hospital bills, plus the window, and now he's banned, so no JJ's goodness for him. Cost me an hour and a half, and him a few thousand dollars. I think I win, even though I was on salary.
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