I had a new take on an old theme last night, one that, after 20 years of this nonsense, I had not seen. And that is pretty damn impressive.
I had been waiting on a couple in the outside bar. A couple of their friends joined them. The new woman was not an SC, but was creative. Her husband/boyfriend was, and wasn't. Follow that? Good. Because here we go.
NW: New Woman
NM: New Man
JESTER: Mr. Rock and Roll!
Jester's thoughts in italics.
JESTER: Hi there! What may I get for y'all?
NW: I'll take a vodka and cranberry, please.
JESTER: No problem. May I see your ID? (Woman looked to be mid-twenties. If you look 30 or under, I must card you.)
NW looks a bit surprised by being carded.
NW: I don't have my ID with me.
JESTER: I'm sorry, then I can't serve you alcohol. (Oh, crap. Here we go again!)
NM: What's going on?
NW: He carded me. (sounding genuinely surprised, but not sucky)
NM: (to me, with attitude) Are you kidding me? We've been to at least 18 bars today, no one asked us for ID.
JESTER: (And I don't work at any of those bars, nitwit. I also can't control what they do at those bars. I can, however, do my fucking job.) I'm sorry. (about to start explaining the above thoughts in a politer form)
NW: Oh, I understand. You're doing your job. I've bartended.
JESTER: (If you get this, and you have done this, then why the hell are you putting me in this position, lady? And why are you letting your boy be such an ass?) Again, I'm sorry.
NW: Let me ask you something.
JESTER: (This oughtta be good.) Sure.
NW: As I’ve said, I’ve bartended. I did it for seven years. If I get back behind the bar and start flipping bottles around, will that convince you?
JESTER: (Okay, that WAS good! Bonus points to this one for something original.)
I’m sorry, no.
(I won’t even be an ass and tell them that the State of Florida doesn’t give a crap about flipping bottles, or that it is not proper ID, or that people can, and do, bartend under the age of 21. I also won’t mention the very pertinent fact that, once I ask for ID, if you don’t have it, I absolutely cannot serve you.)
NM continued to be sucky, NW was very pleasant, but I did have to give her credit….that was different.
Suggestion to vacationers: when you go to a bar that is not familiar with your shining face, if you think there is any chance, any chance at all of someone asking for ID, bring your ID. And if you think there is no chance? Bring it anyway. And if you are a girl, and don’t want to walk around on vacation with a purse, do what so many women do these days….have your boyfriend/husband/male friend/sex toy stick your ID in his wallet. And if you can’t be bothered with any of that, and I ask for ID? Be nice, like the above lady. Do NOT be a dickwad like her husband. (I know it doesn’t seem like he was that bad from what you see above, but trust me, he was.)
I had been waiting on a couple in the outside bar. A couple of their friends joined them. The new woman was not an SC, but was creative. Her husband/boyfriend was, and wasn't. Follow that? Good. Because here we go.
NW: New Woman
NM: New Man
JESTER: Mr. Rock and Roll!
Jester's thoughts in italics.
JESTER: Hi there! What may I get for y'all?
NW: I'll take a vodka and cranberry, please.
JESTER: No problem. May I see your ID? (Woman looked to be mid-twenties. If you look 30 or under, I must card you.)
NW looks a bit surprised by being carded.
NW: I don't have my ID with me.
JESTER: I'm sorry, then I can't serve you alcohol. (Oh, crap. Here we go again!)
NM: What's going on?
NW: He carded me. (sounding genuinely surprised, but not sucky)
NM: (to me, with attitude) Are you kidding me? We've been to at least 18 bars today, no one asked us for ID.
JESTER: (And I don't work at any of those bars, nitwit. I also can't control what they do at those bars. I can, however, do my fucking job.) I'm sorry. (about to start explaining the above thoughts in a politer form)
NW: Oh, I understand. You're doing your job. I've bartended.
JESTER: (If you get this, and you have done this, then why the hell are you putting me in this position, lady? And why are you letting your boy be such an ass?) Again, I'm sorry.
NW: Let me ask you something.
JESTER: (This oughtta be good.) Sure.
NW: As I’ve said, I’ve bartended. I did it for seven years. If I get back behind the bar and start flipping bottles around, will that convince you?
JESTER: (Okay, that WAS good! Bonus points to this one for something original.)
I’m sorry, no.
(I won’t even be an ass and tell them that the State of Florida doesn’t give a crap about flipping bottles, or that it is not proper ID, or that people can, and do, bartend under the age of 21. I also won’t mention the very pertinent fact that, once I ask for ID, if you don’t have it, I absolutely cannot serve you.)
NM continued to be sucky, NW was very pleasant, but I did have to give her credit….that was different.
Suggestion to vacationers: when you go to a bar that is not familiar with your shining face, if you think there is any chance, any chance at all of someone asking for ID, bring your ID. And if you think there is no chance? Bring it anyway. And if you are a girl, and don’t want to walk around on vacation with a purse, do what so many women do these days….have your boyfriend/husband/male friend/sex toy stick your ID in his wallet. And if you can’t be bothered with any of that, and I ask for ID? Be nice, like the above lady. Do NOT be a dickwad like her husband. (I know it doesn’t seem like he was that bad from what you see above, but trust me, he was.)
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