"These F*ers Don't Get Out Much"

Said the woman who was standing in my way near the bar after saying "Hey" a couple times and tapping my shoulder to get my attention. She didn't want me to get anything for her, she had no question about the location of the restroom, she just wanted to relay that one vital bit of information.

Gal: I'd like a bloody mary and chaser of a light beer.
Me: We have Bud Light or Coors Light.
Gal: Well, since we're in California, how about a Coors Light.
Me: You've been traveling a lot, haven't you?

Guy: (Buying a shot for a gal) Just tell her it's for her future husband, she'll know who it is.

There are a couple of ladies on the patio and I've brought them a couple of rounds. I bring out two more drinks, the same they ordered last time.
Me: Here ya go, that'll be $6.50.
Gal: How come it was $5.00 the last time?
Me:... (I have no idea how she deluded herself there, I really don't.)

Another group is out on the patio. I walk over and say in my best talking over their incessant chatter voice: How is everyone doing?
Group:....
Me: (turning away - anyone who ignores me is, by default, doing fine)
I step over to the other patio table to take care of them.
Gal from group: Excuse me.
Me: (turning back to group) Yeah?
Gal: I'm sorry, that was rude. You came over and asked how we were doing and nobody said anything. I just wanted to say sorry.
I was impressed. Out of all the many times this situation has happened, this was the only time anyone ever acknowledged that they'd ignored me.

Gal in bathroom stall, on cell phone: Please Marcus, I love you.
I can never truly understand the prevalence of phone calls in the bathroom. Yes, it's quieter there, but still...

Last night, around one o'clock when the bar was mostly cleared out and one of my new best friends was closing out his tab.
Guy: (Commenting on the hiphop playing on the radio) This is music that makes you wanna dance. You gonna dance?
Me: No.
Guy: You know you wanna dance.
Me: No, I'm good.
Guy: You'd dance if you were buzzed.
Me: It's possible.
Guy: I'm a little buzzed. (Which would be accurate if you replaced the word "buzzed" with "drunk" and deleted the "little.") What are you doing on Sunday?
See, Jenny? These are the kinds of pick up lines I get. Notice any suaveness? Any at all?

I would say that K.C. is my favorite of all the door guys who have come through the bar. Nice guy, good at telling the drunk guy trying to get in while holding a plastic cup of beer from another bar that he can't, and he tells me things like: I can't let you in. You must be this *hold up hand* tall to get in.
Me: Don't make me have to beat you.
K.C.: Oh, beat me. Please.

Or, tonight when I walked outside and hunkered down a bit by the wall.
Me: This is the first time in a couple hours that I've been able to really bend my knees. I'm taking advantage of it.
K.C.: Just don't let anyone think you're getting ready to do something else while you're down there.
Me: Thanks.
K.C.: I mean it, there's a lot of drunks around here. They might start thinking something.
Me: Is your mind always in the gutter?
K.C.: Yup. I try to keep it there so it doesn't get hurt falling down.