Promises, Promises

Tonight started slow with me sitting at the bar listening to one of our regulars gossip about two of our other regulars who're having relationship problems thanks to both of them screwing around on each other. Then I got a table with two whole people and after a while Marianne and Bob wandered in, meaning I got my last pay check signed and the new schedule got posted. I'm excited about the new schedule.

A new gal starts training next week and, after talking with Marianne a bit about the best way to work that, I now hypothetically have the following week off. I said, "Can I have that Friday instead of this one?" and she said, "Well, you'd be off the whole week then. Are you okay with that?" Uh huh, I'm totally okay with that :) Of course, two weeks is a long time in the bar world, and my time off is reliant on the new gal, so I'm not quite holding my breath yet.

Guy and gal wander in, looking lost. They stand around for a minute before gal heads to the bathroom and guy sits down in the soft section (i.e. stuffed chairs). Gal comes back from the bathroom, sits down and looks lost a little longer, so I head over.
Me: Hi guys, what can I get for you?
Guy: Oh, we're not going to stay.
Me: Oh, alright.
Guy: We'll be back later.
Me: Okay.
Guy: When there's more people.
Me: I'll be counting the minutes until you return. Indeed, my night won't be complete until then. Please, don't wait too long. I don't think I could stand it.

The looking lost theme continued, with people wandering in and staring dumbly about before sitting at a table, then moving to the bar, etc. It was strange, and Dave summed it up pretty well, "What's with everybody acting stoned tonight?"

There was a football game going on tonight. We had it on our television.
Guy: What's the score?
Me: I dunno.
Guy: You don't care, do you?
Me: Not even a little bit.

Early twenties guy from the soft section goes up to the bar, says to Julia: Can I get two snakebites? (Then he sees me) Uh, can you bring those over to our table? Is that okay?
Me: Oh, I suppose. I guess it's kind of the whole reason I work here and all.
-So, I bring 'em over. According to our drink menu, snakebites are a pint of half Strongbow, half Harp. The guys look at them, look at me, look at them, look at me again, and say, "Huh? We ordered shots."
Me: These are how we make snakebites, but I can take 'em back and get you the shots instead.
Guys: Um... (Stare blankly at each other for half an hour)
Guy 1: You want the beers too?
Guy 2: I dunno, what's it taste like? (another half hour)
Guy 1: We want the shots instead.
Me: Okay, no problem. What's in 'em?
Guy 1: VO and Rose's lime.
-I scoop up the beers and put them up on the bar.
John: These goners?
Me: Yup, they want snakebite shots.
John: Oh. Well, they're usually made with Yukon, and we don't have it, so we'll just substitute with [something I forget].
Me: They say it's made with VO, so go ahead and substitute with that.
John: VO? Really?
Me: That's what they said.
John: Alright then.

Flash forward to twenty minutes later. I ring in a Michelob Ultra, Sunshine Wheat, and Coors Light for the same table.
Julia: Hey, did they want those as beers or shots?
Me: Shots, I think.
Julia: One shot of Coors Light comin' right up.

Then the poorly-tipping braintrust says they're going downstairs to play pool. This was at around ten o'clock. They lied to me. They stayed upstairs until last call, the bastards. Julia and I spent the whole time playing the pretending not to see them game and they kept walking up to the bar to order. When I whined to K.C. about the dumbasses in the corner, he informed me that they had asked him a couple of times where they "could score some blow." Very classy.

Braintrust guy standing in my way, watching me enter stuff on the POS: Wow, you're fast at that.
Me: It's called two years of constant repetition.

Finally, we came to last call. The same braintrust guy was once again standing in my way, so I made extra effort to slam empty beer bottles into the trash in the hopes of startling him. Alas, he was too far gone on booze to get the desired effect. Instead of jumping at the sound, he just turned around and slurred at me.
Guy : Are you mad?
Me: Not particularly. (Which was the truth. It wasn't anger so much as it was almost two a.m. and I was at work and he was in the way and I had long since gone past the point of caring if anybody liked me at all.)
Guy: I just want you to know, I think you're really good. You're so fast with the computer.
Me: Thanks.
Guy: I don't want you to be mad. I'm gonna give you twenty dollars. A twenty dollar tip.
Me: Okay.
Guy turned to the chickie beside him. No cash was forthcoming. I told K.C. and Julia about my impending bonus. I said, "He's gonna give me $20 and then I can retire." He closed out his tab with Julia. $4 tip on a $47 tab. He stumbled out, completely forgetting the promised $20.

Alas, I cannot retire yet. Maybe next week, eh?

K.C. It's the perfect night to make out with a chic under the stars, and here I am, at work.
-Which really says it all, doesn't it?