Things Are Not Always What They Seem

Right, so here's some catching up on my bar posts. Last weekend was a funny one. I got called "mean" not once, but twice in one night!

Early in the night, within about half an hour of my arrival, there's a few people sitting at the bar and maybe two tables. I'm clearing off empty tables form folks who've left and notice that one table that never had people does have empty glassware. It also has a pair of sunglasses. After a bit of investigation I find out that the couple at the bar put all the junk there in order to, you guessed it, save the table while they're sitting at the bar. I just love people who think they own the whole world, don't you?

A woman comes in, sits at the big table. She's not ready to order yet, so I hand her the drink menu and let her ponder it. I glance over. She's now moved to the other side of the big table. Another woman comes in. The first moves back to the side of the table where she started. I head over, get a couple of drink orders, and this is when I discover that they're expecting a big group. I groan on the inside, but this proves to be all right.

More trickle in to join the table, which they then turn sideways and pull another table up to. So far, they're all women. This could go badly, but I luck out and get that statistical oddity that is a big group of single women who are nice to their female server. They stay for a couple hours, are in a great mood the whole time, and tip just fine, save for one who leaves me $20 on a $60 tab. She's awesome.

Which leads us to a unique phenomenon in the service industry - this was my weekend where I liked the single women better than the single men.

One guy, R. is a semi regular and a friend of someone I know, thus making us almost acquaintances. He comes in with another guy, also a semi regular, we'll call him OG. They walk in and survey the bar. On one side there is plenty of room, as well as another regular, C. who is obnoxious.
R. (to OG): Let's sit over there, I don't want to sit next to C. he's an ass.
OG: But, that's the waitress station.
R: (pulls up a stool and puts it directly adjacent to the computer, which means he's now in my way)
OG does not pull up a stool, but stands, as the only place now to put a stool would be directly in front of the computer. Meanwhile, C. sits in the middle of two sets of empty stools. On one hand, I can't blame R. for not wanting to sit next to that guy, he personally drives me up the wall, so I can understand. On the other, he's in my way and there are plenty of empty tables. Whatever, I go about my business.

I reach over R. to get to my water, take a sip, put it back.
R.: I'm gonna lace your water with something. I'll spike it. (chuckles like he's funny)
Me: ...
R.: (says something else, but I ignore that as well)

I'm so unimpressed I don't even look at him. Later on, I overhear him talking to Brandi about how I'm mad at him. I'm very entertained. Being mad would require energy. I'm just not paying him any attention at all, because he warrants that little of my energy.

Later on that very night, another dude hunkers down in my way. Younger this time, and not someone I recognize. At one point, while I'm putting in an order, he turns to me.
Guy: Can I push the buttons?
Me: Nope.
Guy: You're kinda mean.
Me: Yeah, that's what they tell me.

After a while, 'cause I'm bored and guess that it'll shut him up, I let him enter in a round of drinks for me.
Guy: That just made my night.
Satisfied, he stops bugging me, instead focusing his attention on the bachelorette party nearby. He's one of those in love with himself types, who thinks anything female with think just as highly of him as he does of himself. He buys them a round or two of shots. Brandi makes him and his buddy a basket of chips and salsa even though the kitchen's closed. Eventually, the guy closes his tab.
Guy's friend: That's all you're leaving for a tip?
Guy shrugs, pushes the credit card slip away from him and the two of them leave. Brandi picks up the slip, snorts, and mutters something about what's the point of doing anybody any favors. She shows me the slip. A whopping 10%.

And I'm the mean one?