Today for your amusement I have two very short stories, one of which I already posted to the Lounge. Sorry for the duplication – I've edited and expanded it slightly.
Over the weekend I accidentally sent out a text message to like half the people in my phone, it went something like:
"No joke – there's a drunk guy in scuba gear. A-HOLE. Don't let him in."
I have a couple of friends who work at other bars in town, so when I have a problem with a particular person, if I have time I'll send out a text to them, to give them a heads-up to turn the problem away at the door.
In this particular case, it was a guy in a scuba outfit who had come from some sort of costume party. He showed up with a group of local politicians and their wives (one of whom was recently busted for public urination and cocaine, which I sadly didn't witness myself, only heard about thirdhand).
The Scuba guy was one of those guys who talks about his last name a lot – "My family has been in this town for 100 years! How long has your family been here? Not as long as my family! So you have to serve me more beer!"
Then when I told him he was cut off – no more alcohol, he spent about half an hour trying to apologise, wanting to shake my hand (but then refusing to let go of my hand in a show of drunken earnestness), leaning way too far into my personal space.
That's one of my biggest personal pet peeves, the "drunken handshake that refuses to let go", often followed by the "all shocked and butt hurt when I forcibly extricate my hand from their grip".
I called a taxi for him, so I was kinda stuck listening to his rambling while we waited for it to show up. His behavior never quite got beyond 'annoying', but he was pushing it, and he just wouldn't shut up. While he was talking, the snorkel tucked into the headband of his goggles wobbled back and forth, like a neon green insect's antenna… I'm taller than he his, so I spent the conversation staring at the wobbly plastic tube as it bobbed towards and away from my face…
I was done with him when I handed him a cup of coffee (the taxi was taking FOREVER to show up!), and he looked me in the eye and said "Nah, I changed my mind. I don't want any coffee" while dumping the liquid in the trash, then dropping the glass in the can.
"Alright, now you're waiting outside". And I pushed him up and out the stairs, where he fell down on his fanny pack (OUCH!). The whole time I was pushing him up and out he just kept repeating, "Tell me your name!! I have to know your name!! You HAVE TO tell me your name!!".
I didn't tell him my name.
Then I tried to send the text message to my friends who work in the other bars, but I had a group of customers come in when I was sending it (I of course had to check all their ID's), so I hurried and got the "to" field screwed up, and sent the text out to half of my phone.
So, that explains the text that a few of you got (Murph, Wyatt the Odd, Extra Crispy, and a few other folks here, I think.)
*****
We occasionally get hookers in the bar. As you may imagine, the prostitutes in little bitty rural Fairbanks Alaska aren't generally women with a lot of other options… (read that as alcoholics/meth addicts who are extremely unattractive to boot!)
This particular lady had her act together enough to get past me at the door (read: she was wearing clean enough clothes to pass as one of our blue collar construction-working customers) and buy a drink, but it didn't take very long for her behavior to stand out. She was walking around, obviously trying to sell her wares, bumming cigarettes and drinks.
I wasn't particularly nice when I kicked her out.
"Hey, lady, you need to go. Put down your drink and get out."
She immediately looks like she's going to cry. "Are you a cop??" (she's also ovbiously faking the 'about-to-cry' look)
"No, I'm not a cop, but I work here, and you need to leave. Now."
"Oh… can you call me a taxi?"
"Yes, I'll call you a taxi as soon as you're outside". At this point I walk up to her, take her drink out of her hand, and start leading/walking with her towards the door, as it looks like she wants to talk to me and get all emotional as a delaying tactic.
"OK, OK, OK, I'll leave. But can I buy some cocaine from you while we wait for the cab?" And she pulls out a $20 USD bill and waves it in my face.
"HuWha???" Do I really look that much like a coke dealer? It's not the first time I've been asked… "NO. I don't have any coke to sell you". But I take the $20 USD from her and put it in my pocket. We've walked outside and now I'm standing next to her in the parking lot, calling a taxi on my cell phone.
She's a very short woman, and I'm a tall man. She hugs me while I'm on the phone with the cab company, "Well then, you could at least buy me some drinks", snuggling up to my waist – I freeze, like a deer in the headlights, with a short fat hooker's arms around its hips…
"No, there won't be any drinks while we wait for the cab." I'm afraid that if I leave her alone in the parking lot she'll wander back inside or hassle people as they leave/enter the bar, the lowest maintenance solution is probably to just stand there with her while we wait.
"So… you don't have any coke, (Nope!), and you don't drink? (Nope!) Can I have my $20 USD back?" (Nope!)
She pauses for a moment, as if in thought. "Then we should get married.
But just for a few days, to see if it works out."
I'm speechless, but luckily I'm saved by the taxi pulling up. I direct her over to the passenger side of the taxi, and I get her $20 USD out of my pocket. The driver rolls down his window as I approach, and I hand him the money.
"Take her THIS FAR away from here!"
He looks at the gal as she stumbles into his cab, looks back at me and laughs, "OK, man, no problem!"
That was the worst marriage proposal ever.
*****
My next story will be titled "SO MUCH BLOOD, EVERYWHERE!", which TMP's own Carne68 just barely missed by maybe 20 minutes, and I suppose I could dust off an old one from a different bar a few years ago, where I accidentally found out that most of our customers erroneously thought I was a coke fiend…
-Alex
