Yet another in my long list of gripes, bitches, grievances, complaints, and moanings about our friend, the ID.
*sigh*
So I was waiting tables on the roof deck last night. I saw a single dude sitting at one of my tables, and being the excellent server that I am, approached him and asked if he needed a drink or a menu. No, of course not. He was just sitting there watching the band. And I couldn't really toss him out, because as he told me, his father was at the bar. Great. Paying customers taking up a table of mine...and not buying anything from me. I hate these people.
A little while later, I notice that the dude has been joined by two older folks, presumably his parents. They have drinks, but as is my nature, I approach to introduce myself and let them know if they need MORE drinks, I'm their guy. In other words, order from me if you're sitting at my table, you fuckers.
JESTER: "Hi folks! I know y'all have drinks, but if you need anything else, just let me know."
OLDER GUY: "Hi! Thanks. I'm Bob!"
JESTER: "I'm Jester, good to meet you."
Bob then proceeds to shake my hand enthusiastically and give me the fist bump. Great. Now he's not only taking up my table and not ordering jack, he's out to injure my knuckles as well.
Blah blah blah, he says some more meaningless shit, and I go back to serving people who actually need it. You know...the people at my other tables who are actually buying something from me.
A little while goes by, and I notice that the younger guy's beer is empty. He and Bob are not around, but I ask the woman if the younger guy needs another one. She says he probably will, at which point I tell her I'd be more than happy to get one, as soon as I see younger guy's ID. Obviously she can't help me with this, so I go about my business until younger guy gets back.
A little while after this, I see the younger guy coming back on to the deck. I ask him if he'd like another beer, he says yes....at which point I ask him for ID.
Anyone wanna guess what he said?
If you guessed "I don't have it with me," the answer that all underage drinkers give when carded, you are correctamundo. I politely inform younger guy that I cannot serve him any alcohol if he does not have his ID. Everything is cool. He goes off to his table, I inform the bartender of the situation, so that what happened earlier--Friendly Bob buying a round from the bar and bringing it to the table--does not happen again.
I then politely inform Friendly Bob of the situation.
JESTER: "Bob, I'm sorry, but since your son does not have his ID, we won't be able to serve him or even have him drinking up here."
FRIENDLY BOB: "Oh, I know that."
What?
Um, what?
You KNOW that. In other words, you knew the dude was underage, you knew that it was ILLEGAL for him to be drinking in our establishment, you knew that it was ILLEGAL for us to serve him without proper identification, and you felt it was all perfectly fine for you to buy him a beer, endangering the bartender's job, my job, and the establishment's liquor license? You knew that?
You fakely friendly sanctimonious little prick! Fuck you, Friendly Bob! Take your idiocy and your job-endangering attitudes and actions, and your underage son, and GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY BAR!
I hate assholes like this. I hope he gets painfully inflamed genital warts. Fucker.
*sigh*
So I was waiting tables on the roof deck last night. I saw a single dude sitting at one of my tables, and being the excellent server that I am, approached him and asked if he needed a drink or a menu. No, of course not. He was just sitting there watching the band. And I couldn't really toss him out, because as he told me, his father was at the bar. Great. Paying customers taking up a table of mine...and not buying anything from me. I hate these people.
A little while later, I notice that the dude has been joined by two older folks, presumably his parents. They have drinks, but as is my nature, I approach to introduce myself and let them know if they need MORE drinks, I'm their guy. In other words, order from me if you're sitting at my table, you fuckers.
JESTER: "Hi folks! I know y'all have drinks, but if you need anything else, just let me know."
OLDER GUY: "Hi! Thanks. I'm Bob!"
JESTER: "I'm Jester, good to meet you."
Bob then proceeds to shake my hand enthusiastically and give me the fist bump. Great. Now he's not only taking up my table and not ordering jack, he's out to injure my knuckles as well.
Blah blah blah, he says some more meaningless shit, and I go back to serving people who actually need it. You know...the people at my other tables who are actually buying something from me.
A little while goes by, and I notice that the younger guy's beer is empty. He and Bob are not around, but I ask the woman if the younger guy needs another one. She says he probably will, at which point I tell her I'd be more than happy to get one, as soon as I see younger guy's ID. Obviously she can't help me with this, so I go about my business until younger guy gets back.
A little while after this, I see the younger guy coming back on to the deck. I ask him if he'd like another beer, he says yes....at which point I ask him for ID.
Anyone wanna guess what he said?
If you guessed "I don't have it with me," the answer that all underage drinkers give when carded, you are correctamundo. I politely inform younger guy that I cannot serve him any alcohol if he does not have his ID. Everything is cool. He goes off to his table, I inform the bartender of the situation, so that what happened earlier--Friendly Bob buying a round from the bar and bringing it to the table--does not happen again.
I then politely inform Friendly Bob of the situation.
JESTER: "Bob, I'm sorry, but since your son does not have his ID, we won't be able to serve him or even have him drinking up here."
FRIENDLY BOB: "Oh, I know that."
What?
Um, what?
You KNOW that. In other words, you knew the dude was underage, you knew that it was ILLEGAL for him to be drinking in our establishment, you knew that it was ILLEGAL for us to serve him without proper identification, and you felt it was all perfectly fine for you to buy him a beer, endangering the bartender's job, my job, and the establishment's liquor license? You knew that?
You fakely friendly sanctimonious little prick! Fuck you, Friendly Bob! Take your idiocy and your job-endangering attitudes and actions, and your underage son, and GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY BAR!
I hate assholes like this. I hope he gets painfully inflamed genital warts. Fucker.
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