...up until we had another diva show up. Honestly, shouldn't some of these girls get ego trips once their boyfriend's band at least makes regional status? Seriously?
This time, it was about IDs. Having retaken my TABC course and getting my license renewed, I found out that they made some pretty... odd changes to the laws. Now we can accept any state-issued ID, but international IDs and passports are out of the question, and government and military IDs need to have a state-issued ID to support the info on them.
I'm covering T's shift again, because she needed tonight off to help her daughter get ready for her prom (and if T doesn't show us pics when she comes back, she owes me her soul...), and SC in question has a government ID. I remember carding her a few times when her boyfriend's band played at our bar, but our policies were different those few times. It checks out, too: no signs of tampering, no damage to the card whatsoever (given her attitude, I'm willing to guess that she keeps it in a specially-crafted, hermetically sealed lock box in her fucking attic...), still current, everything. We just have to ask for a driver's license or state ID to back it up. And that's when the shit started.
Me: "Oh, my kingdom for a stun gun and a bottle of Jack right about now..."
SC: The diva in question, whose attitude can do more damage than the high horse she got on.
CBM: Cool Band Member. The ones who know how to calm their girlfriends down no matter how pissed they get. I need to learn their tactics...
Me: "I remember you! You're CBM's girlfriend. I just have to do my job and check IDs because of the cameras."
SC: "Oh, okay." SC pulls out her government ID. "Here you go."
Me: I look it over to check its authenticity, and it checks out. "Alright. Do you have a state-issued ID, also? I'm afraid I can't accept just a government ID."
SC: "What?!"
Me: "There's been some changes to our policies lately that we're all still getting used to, and in order for me to take this ID, I need a driver's license or a st--"
SC: "That's bullshit! I've been here lots of times before, and--"
Me: "I'm sorry, but if it were up to me, I'd take it. We have to follow procedures, though, and there's nothing I can do about it."
SC: "Oh, so every time I come by, you're just gonna change everything around, aren't you?!"
Me: (Yeah. For one, all of us would be able to carry tasers without getting in trouble for it.) "I'm sorry, but--"
SC: She pulled out her BlackBerry and started texting someone at a speed I can't even type at. And I've been clocked at around 90 WPM on a good day. Within seconds, CBM comes rushing down the stairs like the text said 'HELP ME!!!11!1'
CBM: "What's up? What's going on?"
Me: "I can't let her in with just a government ID; she needs a state-issued card also."
CBM: "Isn't there any way she could come in without it?"
Me: "I'd have to mark her as a minor."
SC: "Yeah, and I'm 40 fucking years old."
CBM: Giving her a 'just a second' gesture, he says, "Okay. Hang on a second." He pulls SC outside and talks to her. They're gone for a good five minutes, and they return.
SC: She holding her driver's license in her hand like she wanted to stab me with it. "Here."
Me: Birthday looks good... ID is still current... no damage... "'Kay."
SC: "'69."
Me: "Yep." She hands me a $10, I give her $5 change, and mark her as an adult. The two of them head upstairs, CBM giving me a devil-horns on his way up.
There's an epilogue to this incident, though: CBM runs into me a few minutes later and tells me that SC calmed down a lot. A couple of beers'll do that, I guess. She was even at the upstairs bar jamming out to the band while they were on stage when I closed my register.
A rare happy ending, but... grr.
This time, it was about IDs. Having retaken my TABC course and getting my license renewed, I found out that they made some pretty... odd changes to the laws. Now we can accept any state-issued ID, but international IDs and passports are out of the question, and government and military IDs need to have a state-issued ID to support the info on them.
I'm covering T's shift again, because she needed tonight off to help her daughter get ready for her prom (and if T doesn't show us pics when she comes back, she owes me her soul...), and SC in question has a government ID. I remember carding her a few times when her boyfriend's band played at our bar, but our policies were different those few times. It checks out, too: no signs of tampering, no damage to the card whatsoever (given her attitude, I'm willing to guess that she keeps it in a specially-crafted, hermetically sealed lock box in her fucking attic...), still current, everything. We just have to ask for a driver's license or state ID to back it up. And that's when the shit started.
Me: "Oh, my kingdom for a stun gun and a bottle of Jack right about now..."
SC: The diva in question, whose attitude can do more damage than the high horse she got on.
CBM: Cool Band Member. The ones who know how to calm their girlfriends down no matter how pissed they get. I need to learn their tactics...
Me: "I remember you! You're CBM's girlfriend. I just have to do my job and check IDs because of the cameras."
SC: "Oh, okay." SC pulls out her government ID. "Here you go."
Me: I look it over to check its authenticity, and it checks out. "Alright. Do you have a state-issued ID, also? I'm afraid I can't accept just a government ID."
SC: "What?!"
Me: "There's been some changes to our policies lately that we're all still getting used to, and in order for me to take this ID, I need a driver's license or a st--"
SC: "That's bullshit! I've been here lots of times before, and--"

Me: "I'm sorry, but if it were up to me, I'd take it. We have to follow procedures, though, and there's nothing I can do about it."
SC: "Oh, so every time I come by, you're just gonna change everything around, aren't you?!"
Me: (Yeah. For one, all of us would be able to carry tasers without getting in trouble for it.) "I'm sorry, but--"
SC: She pulled out her BlackBerry and started texting someone at a speed I can't even type at. And I've been clocked at around 90 WPM on a good day. Within seconds, CBM comes rushing down the stairs like the text said 'HELP ME!!!11!1'
CBM: "What's up? What's going on?"
Me: "I can't let her in with just a government ID; she needs a state-issued card also."
CBM: "Isn't there any way she could come in without it?"
Me: "I'd have to mark her as a minor."
SC: "Yeah, and I'm 40 fucking years old."
CBM: Giving her a 'just a second' gesture, he says, "Okay. Hang on a second." He pulls SC outside and talks to her. They're gone for a good five minutes, and they return.
SC: She holding her driver's license in her hand like she wanted to stab me with it. "Here."
Me: Birthday looks good... ID is still current... no damage... "'Kay."
SC: "'69."
Me: "Yep." She hands me a $10, I give her $5 change, and mark her as an adult. The two of them head upstairs, CBM giving me a devil-horns on his way up.
There's an epilogue to this incident, though: CBM runs into me a few minutes later and tells me that SC calmed down a lot. A couple of beers'll do that, I guess. She was even at the upstairs bar jamming out to the band while they were on stage when I closed my register.
A rare happy ending, but... grr.
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