Tweet
Well, Fantasy Fest came and went, as well as a couple other somewhat major events, and in the last month or so, I have piled up a couple amusing stories. And I've been meaning to put them on here, so I'll just try to remember them all now and put them all in one thread.
So the Parrotheads invaded the week after Fantasy Fest, as they do every year at that time. For those of you who don't know, Parrotheads are Jimmy Buffett's loyal, near-fanatical fans, and they have a gathering here in Key West (where Jimmy got started) every November. Now, I like Buffett's music, and consider myself a fan, but am NOT a Parrothead. Sort of the difference between being a good Catholic and attending Mass twice a week religiously, if you get my meaning. Now, a lot of Parrotheads are really cool people. A lot....are not. The following is about the Nots.
The "We're Different" Dress Code
Parrotheads get off on the fact that they follow their idol's creed of living a relaxed, laidback lifestyle, kicking it on the beach, drinking beer and margaritas, acting goofy, and occasionally smoking a joint. Only a lot of them really don't. They all dress in the same silly tropical shirts, make a point of having their lanyards with their "Margaritville IDs" around their neck, have some sort of Buffett or tropical-themed goofy hats, and talk a lot about how they are here to drink....and ironically, the ones who seem to talk the most about it are the ones that order waters with lemon and are just there to listen to the Buffett cover or tribute bands and not actually spend any money or tip. But they just have to have their "different" attire, even though they all dress so similarly. In this regard, they remind me so much of the headbangers I hung out with in high school, who were rebelling....by all wearing the same stuff! And I should point out that when Jimmy actually does bother showing up in Key West for this event (which he only does occasionally), he doesn't wear any of the stuff his fans do. He generally wears shorts, a t-shirt, a ballcap, and sandals.
The cool Parrotheads find this type rather annoying, as they know that they are giving the entire group a bad reputation.
(To get a good idea of how I and many of my fellow Key Westers feel about this type, check out my response to one world class jackhole of a Parrothead here. Sadly, his original commentary on craigslist is gone, but you can get the general idea of it from my comments.)
You seem to have us confused with another bar....
So, the first day I had to deal with Parrotheads, this one winner comes into my bar, and starts asking about our beers. Specifically, did we have any Landshark (Buffett's answer to Corona, a rather tasty beer)? No, we don't carry that. But he would not be deterred....
"What? Why not?"
I don't know. We don't. For whatever reason, our manager has decided not to stock that beer.
"But it's Parrothead week!"
Yes, I know.
"So you should have Landshark."
Sir, this is not Margaritville. This is [The Bar]. This place is not owned by Jimmy Buffett. It's owned by [The Bar's Owner].
"But you don't have Landshark!"
Yes, I know. I already told you that. Please, try to keep up.
"You realize that all the Parrotheads coming down are going to drink somewhere else when they find out you don't have Landshark?"
Actually, they will drink in a lot of bars, because not all of them drink Landshark. A lot of them drink Corona. A lot drink margaritas. And some of them, good lord, actually will go in a non-Buffett direction and drink something else completely. Like, say, some of our 150+ rums that we stock here.
"But still, you should have Landshark! It's Parrothead week!"
At this point, the Parrotheads around this guy were even getting irritated with his Lather Rinse Repeat nonsense.
Dude, if you say Landshark one more time, I am going to punish you.
"You really should have Landshark, you know."
So I punished him by putting a warm shot of Cuervo right in front of him. To this day, he remains one of the only people that I have punished that did NOT sack up and drink his tequila.
Pussy.
If you want to kill yourself, fine. Please stop involving others.
I have noticed something recently, a disturbing trend. I will pull up to a red light. A pedestrian will be coming along the street that has the green light. They will get to the intersection right about the same time as their light will turn yellow and then red, and mine will turn green. An intelligent human being, seeing that it would be unsafe to cross, would stop and wait for the next green. But not these Defiers of Death. No, they will get to the crosswalk, look up, SEE what is about to happen....and then hurry across the street, even if the line of cars going across their line of travel has already started moving. They will do this and keep going, making the cars that have the right of way stop so that they are not inconvenienced.
This was not just one random nutjob....I have seen this countless times, and as a driver, it is very aggravating. I would run them over to teach them a lesson, but the likely hike in insurance rates and the love I have for my truck always prevent me from this very satisfying course of action.
The other day, I saw a guy who must have been these people's KING. I was driving up the main thoroughfare in Key West. I was approaching a major intersection. And as the light for the main thoroughfare turns green, this dude darts out into the street to cross traffic. Not at the crosswalk, mind you. Now, he did this a few yards from the crosswalk, basically going behind the first couple rows of cars, but still stopping traffic...and defying traffic starting up from the other direction to hit him.
Him....and the stroller he was pushing. The stroller was not empty.
Thank you....though I don't know why!
I had a rather strange incident at The Bar the other day. A young lady in her mid-twenties came in. She did not seem inebriated. She did not seem in any way mentally incapacitated or dysfunctional. She seemed, on other words, perfectly normal. A bit flustered by something, perhaps (she told someone on her phone that she was having a terrible day), but nothing like some of the wackos I have had to deal with in my job.
So she sits down at the bar and asks for a menu, a water, and a cranberry juice. Good enough. I bring her the desired items, and though I came back a few times, she had not decided on her lunch. She was on the phone for much of this, so I didn't really think anything of it. At one point, she even told me she might be a while making up her mind. I did at one point mention to her that, damn it, we were going to make her day better!
Finally I came back to her and she told me she had decided not to get anything, she just needed her tab.
JESTER: "For just the one cranberry juice, then?" Being a funny guy.
HER: "Actually, no. Can you put five of them on there?"
JESTER: "I'm sorry, what? You want me to put FIVE cranberry juices on your tab?"
HER: "Yes. I'll drink them."
JESTER: "Okay...you sure?" Still puzzled by this odd request.
HER: "Yep. Here."
And she handed me her credit card. So I rang her up a tab for five juices, about nine bucks, and ran her credit card, then brought her the slip to sign, and went back about my business of stocking the bar, as there was a lot to restock from the day before. At one point shortly after that, I went to the beer cooler to grab a couple cases of beer, and when I came back, she was gone. Figuring she was in the bathroom, I left her glasses alone.
About 20 minutes later, when I realized she was still not back, I asked some other customers if she had left. "Yep. She went down the street a while ago."
Weird. She paid for five juices, but didn't even finish her first one. That is definitely odd. Oh well, things happen, right. And then I picked up her credit slip.
And that, dear friends, is when things went from odd to downright bizarre. Because on her nine dollar tab, she tipped me another twenty bucks. And it's not like she might have thrown down a twenty thinking it was another bill....she wrote in "20.00" in the tip area, and then the correct total in the total area.
And I really didn't do a thing for her!
The one customer suggested that maybe she was interested in a romantic dalliance with me, but while I didn't mind the idea--she was very attractive--that certainly is not the best way to go about it, since she never came back, nor did she leave me any contact information.
Very, very strange.
Shockingly, he didn't kill anyone
So the other day, Boss Man was very sick, suffering from the flu. He was running late to get to the bar for day shift, but feeling as he did, he figured he would take care of a couple things, get the bartender a bank, give the bartender his manager keys (as he has done in the past for other reasons), and go home and back to bed. The bartender would take care of any discounts or voids, check the day servers out, and in turn check out with the night manager. It was a good plan. Unfortunately, when he showed up to The Bar, he noticed a major flaw in his plan. Though it was after 10:00 am, when the openers would normally show up, there was no bartender and no servers on the premises. He had no front of the house crew! Needless to say, he freaked out.
So, what happened? Well, two people fucked up. I was one of them, being the day bartender and "choosing" that day to oversleep. I was woken up by a phone call from Boss Man at 10:27 am. Needless to say, I bolted awake, got dressed and out the door and into my truck in truly astounding time.
Shortly thereafter, when I was walking into The Bar, I was trying to figure out why my Rockin' Manager was setting up the dining room. As it turns out, she was the other person that fucked up: for the first time in four years on the job as the server manager, she somehow forgot to schedule any day time servers that day.
But in the end, everything worked out. I set up the bar in near record time. Another bartender came in at the request of RM and worked the dining room. RM told Boss Man to go the hell home, she would work his day shift so he could recover, even though that would mean she was working both day and night shift. We opened only slightly late, both the other bartender and I made money, and Boss Man decided against decapitating RM or myself.
Banking with Jester
I am such a regular at one particular branch of my bank that most of the regular tellers know me by now. How well do they know me? Well, they haven't asked me for my account number in a while. I walk in, they greet my warmly by name, and they process whatever transaction I have that day without asking for the account number. That's cool.
Except when they try to rob me.
The other day, I walked in and handed Teller T $150 for my moving fund that I started a little while back. I knew it was $150 because I had counted it out the night before and folded it in half inside my wallet to separate it from the rest of my money. A moment later, T says, "Jester, this is only $120." What?
I know it was early in the morning, but I KNEW I handed her $150. 
She recounted it in front of me, and sure enough, it was $120. But I NEVER screw up numbers. Names? Sure. Facts? Fine. Numbers? No. But there it was in front of me. *sigh* Oh, well. Guess I'm depositing $120, then.
And it was at that point that Teller M pointed out to Teller T that there was $30 laying there on the floor, on THEIR side of the divider, that T had dropped. Ah ha! I was right! And these crafty tellers are trying to rob me of my hard-earned money! (Just kidding. It was an honest mistake, and T is a lovely girl, and was very embarrassed by all this.)
But when I say the tellers love me, this is not an exaggeration or merely my opinion. Yesterday as I am eating lunch, my phone rings with an unknown but local number. I answered it, and it was Teller M calling me from the bank. (They DO have access to my info, after all.) And she was inviting me to her Thanksgiving dinner today, with her boyfriend, other tellers, and other people.
So, how many of you were invited to Thanksgiving by your bank tellers?
The ultimate lack of effort
I have recounted the craziness of Fantasy Fest on numerous occasions here, so I shall not do so again, other than to say that some people make more of an effort with their costumes than others. Some people go all out, some people have fun, some people just get body-painted...and then there are people who just walk around with beads having fun. And a lot of these people are wearing, shall we say, less than the normal amount of clothing. And that's fine. As long as they know that certain bits need to be covered and/or bodypainted. Here's a hint: north of the border, body-paint is fine. Down south, you need at least some fabric. But some people just don't get that.
Two years ago, a woman walked into our very packed bar. No costume. No clothes. And no body paint. Just stark naked. The great thing about Fantasy Fest? Most people didn't notice. But still. My first thought was "Where does she keep her wallet?"
Then this year, one night late, near the time of bars closing, I was walking down one street downtown and saw a couple walking along. I couldn't tell you what the woman was wearing because I don't remember. I couldn't tell you what the guy was wearing...because he wasn't. Not a stitch. Just walking down the street without even a sock. (Well, two sandals, but I was not talking about his feet.) Now, women may get away with more because they're women--there IS a double standard in society--but seriously? And you think this is okay?
This "well, it's Key West, it's Fantasy Fest, anything goes, right?" mentality is what leads to stupid people doing stupid things. Like the married couple that got arrested for engaging in oral sex. In the middle of the street. While a crowd cheered them on. Look, I'd be lying if I said I've never engaged in some illicit activity in public places. But there's public places, and there's the middle of the fucking street! I mean, do you really expect the cops to just ignore this? And by the way...just what kind of street cred does this get you in the slammer with the drug dealers, muggers, and rapists? Just wondering.
The Duh Phone Call of the Week
JESTER: "Thank you for calling The Bar, this is Jester speaking, how many I help you?"
CALLER: "Yes, do you do breakfast?"
JESTER: "No, we do lunch and dinner."
CALLER: "And what time do you open?"
JESTER: "Eleven o'clock."
CALLER: "And what time do you start serving lunch?"
JESTER: "Um, eleven o'clock...."
CALLER: "Thank you!"
JESTER:
A novel approach
A group of young women come in to the bar. They order drinks. I ask for IDs. All but one produce the requested documentation. And then there was the one.
HER: "I don't have my ID with me."
ME: "I'm sorry, but without your ID, I can't serve you." Standard spiel.
HER: "Crap! I left my wallet at home. But I swear I'm of age." Standard reply.
ME: "I'm sorry, but state law dictates that if you don't have your ID, I absolutely cannot serve you alcohol." Standard rebuttal.
And then things got decidedly Not Standard.
HER: "Well, my wallet's at home....would it be okay if I had my roommate take a picture of my ID and send it to my phone?"
I literally just stared at her for a few moments. Then said, "Nooooo.......no it would not."
I can honestly say that that one was a first. But I suppose with technology it was inevitable. Now I'm waiting for someone to ask if it's okay if they have their friend/mother/spouse TEXT me to tell me that they are, like, really legal and all.
Fight night in Key West
So I was out and about with my friend Photo Dude, who tends to say stupid shit to random people. One thing he says a lot is kind of funny if he says it to someone he knows or to someone he's been talking to. But he will occasionally say it to random girls walking down the street, and then it's just creepy. The comment? "That dress looks terrible. You should take it off right now." Yes, some of my friends ARE idiots.
In any case, he says this to these two girls as we pass them going opposite directions on the main street, and the girls kind of roll their eyes and giggle, because it's idiotic. No biggie, right? Well, the guys who were walking behind them, who apparently were not even with them, got really offended. One dude got up in PD's face and told him that was bullshit, he needed to apologize, that was offensive, etc., etc. They went so far as to call the girls back so that PD could apologize, and the girls, frankly, looked rather embarrassed by the whole thing. Me, I tried to defend PD (which is funny, because I find this shit of his annoying at times), telling the dude that PD was just joking, lighten up, etc. And the dude starts getting really agitated, telling me to piss off, it wasn't funny, etc. Basically trying to start a fight with ME. And I am trying to defuse the situation! Photo Dude was all too happy to make his apologies and not cause trouble, but in a way he was kind of a pussy about the whole thing. Irritated me even more. And made me look bad for trying to defend him.
Then, not a few minutes later, we are walking along down the street when this one street kid says, "Hey! Come here. Let me show you a magic trick." Me, as a magician, I was curious, and wanted to see what the dude had. So I said, sure, show me the trick. At which point Photo Dude started pushing me away, as if I was trying to pick a fight with the street kid. Which I wasn't. But of course, with him pushing me away, and with me pushing against PD, it LOOKED like I was going after the street kid. And the street kid started to get all aggressive, telling me he was going to kick my ass. "No, dude, you said you were going to show me a trick...show me a trick." Of course, this came out all aggressive, after I had just been in a shoving match with my idiot friend. "I'll show you a trick. How about I kick your ass." And he got up THIS close to my face. And I'm trying to bring the level down, but failing miserably, telling the dude I just want to see his trick. He thinks I am mocking him, and the testosterone level goes way up. Finally PD succeeds in herding me away, making it look even MORE like I was trying to fight, which I hadn't been. In the process of "protecting" me, my "friend" Photo Dude managed to knock my glasses off and knock a lens out of them.
Why is it I only ever get into these situations when he is around? Oh, wait....I think I just answered my own question.
So the Parrotheads invaded the week after Fantasy Fest, as they do every year at that time. For those of you who don't know, Parrotheads are Jimmy Buffett's loyal, near-fanatical fans, and they have a gathering here in Key West (where Jimmy got started) every November. Now, I like Buffett's music, and consider myself a fan, but am NOT a Parrothead. Sort of the difference between being a good Catholic and attending Mass twice a week religiously, if you get my meaning. Now, a lot of Parrotheads are really cool people. A lot....are not. The following is about the Nots.
The "We're Different" Dress Code
Parrotheads get off on the fact that they follow their idol's creed of living a relaxed, laidback lifestyle, kicking it on the beach, drinking beer and margaritas, acting goofy, and occasionally smoking a joint. Only a lot of them really don't. They all dress in the same silly tropical shirts, make a point of having their lanyards with their "Margaritville IDs" around their neck, have some sort of Buffett or tropical-themed goofy hats, and talk a lot about how they are here to drink....and ironically, the ones who seem to talk the most about it are the ones that order waters with lemon and are just there to listen to the Buffett cover or tribute bands and not actually spend any money or tip. But they just have to have their "different" attire, even though they all dress so similarly. In this regard, they remind me so much of the headbangers I hung out with in high school, who were rebelling....by all wearing the same stuff! And I should point out that when Jimmy actually does bother showing up in Key West for this event (which he only does occasionally), he doesn't wear any of the stuff his fans do. He generally wears shorts, a t-shirt, a ballcap, and sandals.
The cool Parrotheads find this type rather annoying, as they know that they are giving the entire group a bad reputation.
(To get a good idea of how I and many of my fellow Key Westers feel about this type, check out my response to one world class jackhole of a Parrothead here. Sadly, his original commentary on craigslist is gone, but you can get the general idea of it from my comments.)
You seem to have us confused with another bar....
So, the first day I had to deal with Parrotheads, this one winner comes into my bar, and starts asking about our beers. Specifically, did we have any Landshark (Buffett's answer to Corona, a rather tasty beer)? No, we don't carry that. But he would not be deterred....
"What? Why not?"
I don't know. We don't. For whatever reason, our manager has decided not to stock that beer.
"But it's Parrothead week!"
Yes, I know.
"So you should have Landshark."
Sir, this is not Margaritville. This is [The Bar]. This place is not owned by Jimmy Buffett. It's owned by [The Bar's Owner].
"But you don't have Landshark!"
Yes, I know. I already told you that. Please, try to keep up.
"You realize that all the Parrotheads coming down are going to drink somewhere else when they find out you don't have Landshark?"
Actually, they will drink in a lot of bars, because not all of them drink Landshark. A lot of them drink Corona. A lot drink margaritas. And some of them, good lord, actually will go in a non-Buffett direction and drink something else completely. Like, say, some of our 150+ rums that we stock here.
"But still, you should have Landshark! It's Parrothead week!"
At this point, the Parrotheads around this guy were even getting irritated with his Lather Rinse Repeat nonsense.
Dude, if you say Landshark one more time, I am going to punish you.
"You really should have Landshark, you know."
So I punished him by putting a warm shot of Cuervo right in front of him. To this day, he remains one of the only people that I have punished that did NOT sack up and drink his tequila.
Pussy.
If you want to kill yourself, fine. Please stop involving others.
I have noticed something recently, a disturbing trend. I will pull up to a red light. A pedestrian will be coming along the street that has the green light. They will get to the intersection right about the same time as their light will turn yellow and then red, and mine will turn green. An intelligent human being, seeing that it would be unsafe to cross, would stop and wait for the next green. But not these Defiers of Death. No, they will get to the crosswalk, look up, SEE what is about to happen....and then hurry across the street, even if the line of cars going across their line of travel has already started moving. They will do this and keep going, making the cars that have the right of way stop so that they are not inconvenienced.
This was not just one random nutjob....I have seen this countless times, and as a driver, it is very aggravating. I would run them over to teach them a lesson, but the likely hike in insurance rates and the love I have for my truck always prevent me from this very satisfying course of action.
The other day, I saw a guy who must have been these people's KING. I was driving up the main thoroughfare in Key West. I was approaching a major intersection. And as the light for the main thoroughfare turns green, this dude darts out into the street to cross traffic. Not at the crosswalk, mind you. Now, he did this a few yards from the crosswalk, basically going behind the first couple rows of cars, but still stopping traffic...and defying traffic starting up from the other direction to hit him.
Him....and the stroller he was pushing. The stroller was not empty.
Thank you....though I don't know why!
I had a rather strange incident at The Bar the other day. A young lady in her mid-twenties came in. She did not seem inebriated. She did not seem in any way mentally incapacitated or dysfunctional. She seemed, on other words, perfectly normal. A bit flustered by something, perhaps (she told someone on her phone that she was having a terrible day), but nothing like some of the wackos I have had to deal with in my job.
So she sits down at the bar and asks for a menu, a water, and a cranberry juice. Good enough. I bring her the desired items, and though I came back a few times, she had not decided on her lunch. She was on the phone for much of this, so I didn't really think anything of it. At one point, she even told me she might be a while making up her mind. I did at one point mention to her that, damn it, we were going to make her day better!
Finally I came back to her and she told me she had decided not to get anything, she just needed her tab.
JESTER: "For just the one cranberry juice, then?" Being a funny guy.
HER: "Actually, no. Can you put five of them on there?"
JESTER: "I'm sorry, what? You want me to put FIVE cranberry juices on your tab?"
HER: "Yes. I'll drink them."
JESTER: "Okay...you sure?" Still puzzled by this odd request.
HER: "Yep. Here."
And she handed me her credit card. So I rang her up a tab for five juices, about nine bucks, and ran her credit card, then brought her the slip to sign, and went back about my business of stocking the bar, as there was a lot to restock from the day before. At one point shortly after that, I went to the beer cooler to grab a couple cases of beer, and when I came back, she was gone. Figuring she was in the bathroom, I left her glasses alone.
About 20 minutes later, when I realized she was still not back, I asked some other customers if she had left. "Yep. She went down the street a while ago."
Weird. She paid for five juices, but didn't even finish her first one. That is definitely odd. Oh well, things happen, right. And then I picked up her credit slip.
And that, dear friends, is when things went from odd to downright bizarre. Because on her nine dollar tab, she tipped me another twenty bucks. And it's not like she might have thrown down a twenty thinking it was another bill....she wrote in "20.00" in the tip area, and then the correct total in the total area.
And I really didn't do a thing for her!
The one customer suggested that maybe she was interested in a romantic dalliance with me, but while I didn't mind the idea--she was very attractive--that certainly is not the best way to go about it, since she never came back, nor did she leave me any contact information.
Very, very strange.
Shockingly, he didn't kill anyone
So the other day, Boss Man was very sick, suffering from the flu. He was running late to get to the bar for day shift, but feeling as he did, he figured he would take care of a couple things, get the bartender a bank, give the bartender his manager keys (as he has done in the past for other reasons), and go home and back to bed. The bartender would take care of any discounts or voids, check the day servers out, and in turn check out with the night manager. It was a good plan. Unfortunately, when he showed up to The Bar, he noticed a major flaw in his plan. Though it was after 10:00 am, when the openers would normally show up, there was no bartender and no servers on the premises. He had no front of the house crew! Needless to say, he freaked out.
So, what happened? Well, two people fucked up. I was one of them, being the day bartender and "choosing" that day to oversleep. I was woken up by a phone call from Boss Man at 10:27 am. Needless to say, I bolted awake, got dressed and out the door and into my truck in truly astounding time.
Shortly thereafter, when I was walking into The Bar, I was trying to figure out why my Rockin' Manager was setting up the dining room. As it turns out, she was the other person that fucked up: for the first time in four years on the job as the server manager, she somehow forgot to schedule any day time servers that day.
But in the end, everything worked out. I set up the bar in near record time. Another bartender came in at the request of RM and worked the dining room. RM told Boss Man to go the hell home, she would work his day shift so he could recover, even though that would mean she was working both day and night shift. We opened only slightly late, both the other bartender and I made money, and Boss Man decided against decapitating RM or myself.
Banking with Jester
I am such a regular at one particular branch of my bank that most of the regular tellers know me by now. How well do they know me? Well, they haven't asked me for my account number in a while. I walk in, they greet my warmly by name, and they process whatever transaction I have that day without asking for the account number. That's cool.
Except when they try to rob me.
The other day, I walked in and handed Teller T $150 for my moving fund that I started a little while back. I knew it was $150 because I had counted it out the night before and folded it in half inside my wallet to separate it from the rest of my money. A moment later, T says, "Jester, this is only $120." What?
I know it was early in the morning, but I KNEW I handed her $150. She recounted it in front of me, and sure enough, it was $120. But I NEVER screw up numbers. Names? Sure. Facts? Fine. Numbers? No. But there it was in front of me. *sigh* Oh, well. Guess I'm depositing $120, then. And it was at that point that Teller M pointed out to Teller T that there was $30 laying there on the floor, on THEIR side of the divider, that T had dropped. Ah ha! I was right! And these crafty tellers are trying to rob me of my hard-earned money! (Just kidding. It was an honest mistake, and T is a lovely girl, and was very embarrassed by all this.)
But when I say the tellers love me, this is not an exaggeration or merely my opinion. Yesterday as I am eating lunch, my phone rings with an unknown but local number. I answered it, and it was Teller M calling me from the bank. (They DO have access to my info, after all.) And she was inviting me to her Thanksgiving dinner today, with her boyfriend, other tellers, and other people.
So, how many of you were invited to Thanksgiving by your bank tellers?
The ultimate lack of effort
I have recounted the craziness of Fantasy Fest on numerous occasions here, so I shall not do so again, other than to say that some people make more of an effort with their costumes than others. Some people go all out, some people have fun, some people just get body-painted...and then there are people who just walk around with beads having fun. And a lot of these people are wearing, shall we say, less than the normal amount of clothing. And that's fine. As long as they know that certain bits need to be covered and/or bodypainted. Here's a hint: north of the border, body-paint is fine. Down south, you need at least some fabric. But some people just don't get that.
Two years ago, a woman walked into our very packed bar. No costume. No clothes. And no body paint. Just stark naked. The great thing about Fantasy Fest? Most people didn't notice. But still. My first thought was "Where does she keep her wallet?"
Then this year, one night late, near the time of bars closing, I was walking down one street downtown and saw a couple walking along. I couldn't tell you what the woman was wearing because I don't remember. I couldn't tell you what the guy was wearing...because he wasn't. Not a stitch. Just walking down the street without even a sock. (Well, two sandals, but I was not talking about his feet.) Now, women may get away with more because they're women--there IS a double standard in society--but seriously? And you think this is okay?
This "well, it's Key West, it's Fantasy Fest, anything goes, right?" mentality is what leads to stupid people doing stupid things. Like the married couple that got arrested for engaging in oral sex. In the middle of the street. While a crowd cheered them on. Look, I'd be lying if I said I've never engaged in some illicit activity in public places. But there's public places, and there's the middle of the fucking street! I mean, do you really expect the cops to just ignore this? And by the way...just what kind of street cred does this get you in the slammer with the drug dealers, muggers, and rapists? Just wondering.
The Duh Phone Call of the Week
JESTER: "Thank you for calling The Bar, this is Jester speaking, how many I help you?"
CALLER: "Yes, do you do breakfast?"
JESTER: "No, we do lunch and dinner."
CALLER: "And what time do you open?"
JESTER: "Eleven o'clock."
CALLER: "And what time do you start serving lunch?"
JESTER: "Um, eleven o'clock...."
CALLER: "Thank you!"
JESTER:
A novel approach
A group of young women come in to the bar. They order drinks. I ask for IDs. All but one produce the requested documentation. And then there was the one.
HER: "I don't have my ID with me."
ME: "I'm sorry, but without your ID, I can't serve you." Standard spiel.
HER: "Crap! I left my wallet at home. But I swear I'm of age." Standard reply.
ME: "I'm sorry, but state law dictates that if you don't have your ID, I absolutely cannot serve you alcohol." Standard rebuttal.
And then things got decidedly Not Standard.
HER: "Well, my wallet's at home....would it be okay if I had my roommate take a picture of my ID and send it to my phone?"
I literally just stared at her for a few moments. Then said, "Nooooo.......no it would not."
I can honestly say that that one was a first. But I suppose with technology it was inevitable. Now I'm waiting for someone to ask if it's okay if they have their friend/mother/spouse TEXT me to tell me that they are, like, really legal and all.
Fight night in Key West
So I was out and about with my friend Photo Dude, who tends to say stupid shit to random people. One thing he says a lot is kind of funny if he says it to someone he knows or to someone he's been talking to. But he will occasionally say it to random girls walking down the street, and then it's just creepy. The comment? "That dress looks terrible. You should take it off right now." Yes, some of my friends ARE idiots.
In any case, he says this to these two girls as we pass them going opposite directions on the main street, and the girls kind of roll their eyes and giggle, because it's idiotic. No biggie, right? Well, the guys who were walking behind them, who apparently were not even with them, got really offended. One dude got up in PD's face and told him that was bullshit, he needed to apologize, that was offensive, etc., etc. They went so far as to call the girls back so that PD could apologize, and the girls, frankly, looked rather embarrassed by the whole thing. Me, I tried to defend PD (which is funny, because I find this shit of his annoying at times), telling the dude that PD was just joking, lighten up, etc. And the dude starts getting really agitated, telling me to piss off, it wasn't funny, etc. Basically trying to start a fight with ME. And I am trying to defuse the situation! Photo Dude was all too happy to make his apologies and not cause trouble, but in a way he was kind of a pussy about the whole thing. Irritated me even more. And made me look bad for trying to defend him.
Then, not a few minutes later, we are walking along down the street when this one street kid says, "Hey! Come here. Let me show you a magic trick." Me, as a magician, I was curious, and wanted to see what the dude had. So I said, sure, show me the trick. At which point Photo Dude started pushing me away, as if I was trying to pick a fight with the street kid. Which I wasn't. But of course, with him pushing me away, and with me pushing against PD, it LOOKED like I was going after the street kid. And the street kid started to get all aggressive, telling me he was going to kick my ass. "No, dude, you said you were going to show me a trick...show me a trick." Of course, this came out all aggressive, after I had just been in a shoving match with my idiot friend. "I'll show you a trick. How about I kick your ass." And he got up THIS close to my face. And I'm trying to bring the level down, but failing miserably, telling the dude I just want to see his trick. He thinks I am mocking him, and the testosterone level goes way up. Finally PD succeeds in herding me away, making it look even MORE like I was trying to fight, which I hadn't been. In the process of "protecting" me, my "friend" Photo Dude managed to knock my glasses off and knock a lens out of them.
Why is it I only ever get into these situations when he is around? Oh, wait....I think I just answered my own question.
Comment