Pay Your Tab!
It was just an ordinary Saturday during the slow time of the year. Kevin, Tim, and I, three tons of fun, were set to bartend for the third time in a year. I figured we’d spend the night shouting, “My turn!” then go out and curtail our young lives smoking, with the hopes that once we lit our cigarette, a crowd would burst through the doors. There must’ve been something in the air, because there was no time to smoke. We were slammed.
The douche bag of the night was at the bar when I got there. I’ve known D.B. for years and always thought he was a cool guy. When it was time to pay his tab, D.B. informed me that he left his credit card at the Speak Easy, a bar on Pico and 14th and could he pay his tab tomorrow. I told him, “No. Drive over to the Speak Easy. Get your card and come back.” Since the Speak Easy is 2.4 miles from O’ Brien’s, I thought it was a done deal. I was wrong. D.B. told me that he just wanted to go home lay on the couch and watch basketball. What? Are you kidding me? This is a business, like any other. D.B. drank, ate, and ordered food to go, but decided that he didn’t need to pay that day. The truth is, D.B. plays in a band at O’ Brien’s once a month, so i know I’ll see him again, but that’s not the point. Where does someone get off thinking they can’t waste a few minutes on a Saturday afternoon making a five mile round trip to pay their bill? It’s a funny thing how a regular customer feels the rules don’t apply to them. For instance, last week a customer was sitting at a booth and put his foot up on the booth. The bartender asked him to take his foot off the furniture. This douche bag put his other foot up. They exchanged words and the douche bag said that he’s a) a cop, b) knows the owners, and c) has been at O’ Brien’s since it opened. Now does his occupation and history with the bar give him the right to disrespect the place? I don’t think so. In any case, D.B. left without paying his tab and didn’t come in Sunday, either. D.B. is easily the douche bag of the night.
Although my shift was off to a rocky start with D.B., it was nice getting the douche bag of the night award out of the way. Next door, Main had a party scheduled for a hundred and fifty people, so I figured their night would blow up and ours would just blow. Maybe it was the band or the line caused by Main, but we got busy earl. It started at around ten-thirty and didn’t stop until last call. Anytime someone asks for a beer we don’t have, Coors Light, for example, I list off the beers we do have. On Saturday night it went like this, “What can I get you?” “Coors Light” “Bud Light, Miller Lite, or Amstel Light.” “Coors Light” “We don’t sell Coors Light.” The customer then held up a bottle of Coors Light. Now, normally, if I see a customer holding a beer we don’t sell, I throw them out. But I did happen to notice that there were two bottles in the cooler. I’ve already looked like a total asshole, telling a customer we don’t sell a beer which he just bought from us, so I checked in the cooler. No Coors Light. I turned and repeated, “Bud Light, Miller Lite, or Amstel Light.” I still felt like an asshole.
It turned out to be the biggest Saturday in at least a month. I have no idea why, but I’m not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth. I hated to start the shift explaining to a man, older than myself, that we run a business where we exchange goods and services for money. This seems to be lost on D.B. I can’t wait until the next time I see him. My first words will be, “Pay your tab!”
