Two Amazing Stories

This vacation has been absolutely horrid, I am worked to the bone and tired beyond all reasoning.

But in exchange, I have two of the best stories of my life. These are completely true down to the last detail. Pull up a seat and have a listen.

STORY 1: The Time I Probably Made a Guy Pee His Pants in Fear

The Wednesday before Thanksgiving is my least favorite day of the year. I work at a bar, which is normally occupied by older people but on this night is filled to the brim with people from my age group, which are my least favorite kind of people. They're assholes when they're drunk, they tip horribly, and they wont move out of the goddamn way even when they see me trying to get by with two cases of bear I have just lugged up the stairs.

This year, honestly, was not nearly as bad as the last one. I didn't have to pull the bartenders off of unreasonably rude customers (I did last year), they didn't write "fuck you" in the tip lines of their checks instead of money (they did last year), but it is still a personal hell made up specifically of the things I like the most, and I am forced to be there all goddamn night.

So by 1 am, I am really super done with the night. We have stopped serving a while ago, and we're trying to get people out. I go into the banquet room to check it, and see two guys talking drunkedly inside. I tell them that they have to get going, turn around and walk out.

As I'm walking away, one of them yells "FUCK YOU!"

Completely by instinct I turn around immediately, and shoot him a look. Apparently this look is pure malice and Greek fury, because the kid's eyes widen and he begins to apologize profusely, and tries to bolt, which requires him dragging his chubby and nigh-catatonic friend. On his way out he begins to try to joke with me, to lighten the mood after he apparently saw his life flash before his eyes. Because I am a wise an benevolent warrior, I allow him his jokes.

I have to say, in all honesty, I was grateful. I have never felt like such a goddamn badass.

STORY 2: In Which Some Middle Aged Woman Totally Wanted my Sh*t

This story takes place tonight, another crazy busy night. I am holding a tray with four or five items of food, which a waitress is transferring to her table. The table next to them is seated by three middle-aged women, one of whom is apparently gazing at my...tray.

I have transcribed our conversation as close to verbatim as I can manage.

Her: "Hey, that looks good, what is that?"

Me: "This is a philly cheesesteak."

"Wow, that looks so tasty!"

"Yeah, we make them really good here."

"Hey, doesn't he look just like that picture?" She points to a painting of Apollo we have on the wall.

"Well, they did base that portrait on me," I reply.

"Ooh, do you have a six pack too?"

"As long as you have no intention of checking, absolutely I do." I turn on my heels and walk off, silently proud of myself.

Later on, she comes up to the counter.

"Did you hear what I was saying about the Twilight thing?"

"Uhm...no, I didn't."

"Well, you know, in Twilight all the werewolves walk around without shirts...why can't you Greek boys do that?"

"This ain't that kind of restaurant," I reply. "Catch me during the week."

Every once in a while, a couple of seconds every several weeks, I kind of almost like my job.