The Archives

Talking with a guy in a restaurant the other day, I was reminded of a few stories/exchanges from the last several years...

Randomness -

Snotty NYU bitch: "I'm never coming back to this bar. It stinks like vomit!!!"

As she turned away, the source of the odor she was complaining of was evident. The back of her skirt was covered in barf. I'm guessing someone lost their Chicken a la King on her. Oh, well.

St. Patricks Day -

A young lady staggered from the bar, leaned over the A-frame sign, and blew chunks in front of God and everyone. After her purge, she lurched over to the wall of the next building and proceeded to dry heave for several minutes. During this time, her dutiful boyfriend exited the bar to be supportive, hold her hair and do the "good boyfriend shit".

When she finished expunging the devil liquor from her system, she rewarded him in classic style. With a a hug and a kiss. He tried to pull away, but wasn't quick enough. When they separated, he had a nice racing stripe of barf running from the middle of his chest to his belt. Ah, young love.

Randomness II -

As I was escorting a young gent to the door for acting like an asshat, he stopped abruptly and announced "I don't wanna be here anyway! This bar SUCKS!!!"

Me: "You know, you're right. Let me fix that"

I took him by the shoulders and moved him out the door onto the sidewalk.

"There, now the bar doesn't suck anymore. Thanks for pointing out the problem, douche."

You're Parents Must Be Proud -

I entered the bar from a smoke break and saw one of the regulars flagging me relentlessly.

Ed: "That guy...PEE!"

Me: (looking at a guy at a table by the door sitting with his back to the wall) "That guy? What? When?"

Ed: "Now!!!"

(leaning over, I saw the monkey-fuck was, in fact peeing on the floor at that exact moment in time)

I casually walked towards the door. As I approached the failure in Darwinism, I grabbed the table and jerked it away. He was like a deer caught in the headlights...with his johnson hanging out. He tried to run by me, but I grabbed him by the arm and shoulder.

I presume he was fearful of catching a beating, so he collapsed on the floor and curled up in a ball. I quickly made an executive decision. Since he couldn't have weighed more than 150, I decided to allow him live, but endure a different kind of "walk of shame".

I grabbed one leg and his hair and began sliding him back and forth on the floor. I was, in fact, mopping up the pee with the little douchebag.

He screamed, and protested that I was "getting pee" on him. Well no shit, rocket scientist.

After several swipes through the puddle, I let him go. He was drenched on his back and side from his hair to his shoes in his own urine. Ah, sweet satisfaction. He left, crying, never to return.

He never bothered to put his tool away, even as he left. What a butt-munch.

Words of advice for when you go to the bar -

Have an idea of what you want. If you say "Oh, just make me something good." I'll respond "Oh, I'm sorry, I only know how to make drinks that taste like flop sweat."

It's more than a little silly to complain that a bar is crowded on a weekend night. If a bar isn't busy on a weekend night, they'll soon be out of business. Find something else to bitch about.

If you really think it's acceptable to recycle random drinks (ie pick up discarded drinks and consume them as if they were your own), please find the nearest national park, cover yourself in a blanket of raw meat and wait for wild animals to come consume you. You're too dumb to live in my world.

Gabba Gabba WTF?

Random Scenes of Asshattery and Douchiness...

ON THE SIDEWALK:

During a conversation outside the bar w/ a friend, recently, we were approached by a random young lady...

Asshat Chick: Hey guys, I hate to interrupt, but...

Me: ...but you will anyway, because anything we might be discussing obviously pales in comparison to what you have to say.

AC: Wha?

Me: Never mind. What can I do for you, hon? (knowing full well what was coming).

AC: (batting eyes) Do either of you have a spare cigarette?

Friend: I don't smoke.

Me: Sorry, this pack didn't come with any spares.

AC: (confused look)

Me: Seriously, I'm stuck here for a couple of hours, and don't have enough to share...but there's a store right down the block.

AC: (pouty) I'd go buy a pack, but they're so expensive here.

Me: (annoyed) So it makes more sense for me to subsidize your habit. I'll pass, thanks.

AC: (amazed) You're really not going to give me one?

Me: No, hon, I've only got a few left, and they are, as you said, really expensive here.

AC: (in a huff) I can't believe you won't give me one. You're such a dick.

Me: Well, opinions vary. For example, my opinion of you is that you're a selfish, self-entitled brat whose parents didn't use the word "no" nearly enough.

AC: (furious) What a dick! Fuck You!!!

Me: (walking towards the door) You said that already. Good luck w/ grubbing smokes from people that don't owe you a thing, though.

I stopped and spoke with the doorman before heading back inside, where I took a table near the window and front door. A few minutes later, after successfully grubbing a smoke from someone else, the Asshat Chick attempted to enter the bar, only to be refused by the doorman. She looked positively amazed. After pleading her case, he motioned to me at my table. I waved, removed a cigarette from the pack and broke it open on the table, mouthing the words "I'm a dick, remember?" and blowing her a kiss. She stalked off into the night.

Conclusions:

1) It's rude to interrupt people

2) It's dumb to use "I'm cheap" as a reason to bum anything off people, especially when the person you're bumming from has actually paid for the item(s) you're trying to get for free.

3) It's even dumber to insult people that choose not to acquiesce and give you something just because you think you're cute/hot/smart/charming/blah, blah, blah. Please believe me when I tell you you're not/not/not/not.

Additionally, any combination of these three points not only make you an asshat, it can get you 86'ed from the bar if you do it to the wrong person...in this case, me.

STYLE UPDATE:

Wearing sunglasses at night does NOT make you look cool. It gives you the appearance of a complete asshat. Combine it w/ a polo shirt w/ a popped collar, and you start looking douchey.

(secret tip) The previously mentioned dark glasses are NOT camouflage for the fact that you are higher than the national debt. If you seriously think you're fooling anyone with the shades, you're dreaming.

(to the tune of Billy Ocean's "Get Out of My Dreams")

"...Get out of your dreams,

Get out of my bar..."

Also, get out of the 80's. The 80's died a horribly painful death 2 1/2 decades ago...friggin' douchebags.

FREE ADVICE:

If you have a drunken compulsion to pet every dog you see without checking with the dogs owner, you run a high risk of being growled at, snapped at or bitten.

If, after a dog shies from you and turns away, you smack him/her on the hind quarter, grab the tail, or do some other rough shit, you not only deserve the growl/snap/bite, I'm hoping it actually happens.

Not so long ago, Darwinism would have claimed you for trying to pet a mountain lion and subsequently being dragged into the woods, you fucktard.

INTERNATIONAL FAILURES IN DARWINISM:

My friend Jennifer took her daughter to the matinee performance given by the Broadway road company of Annie in Ontario, recently. Needless to say, there were hundreds of kids and their parents. Jennifer and Maia were fortunate to be seated behind the only two ladies slamming beers at the 3 o'clock show. The two Miss Hannigan wannabe's proceeded to get shit-boxed and bellow along with the songs. Oh, it's a hard knock life, indeed!

I'm a barman. My job is to sell people booze. Tha being said, if you're getting soused by mid-day and going to a show like this, a ballet, a museum, or anything along these lines, I have three words for you: IT's NOT NASCAR!!!

I'm not knocking drinking or NASCAR. I'm a fan of both. I won't wear my beer helmet to the theatre, however, because...well, because I'm not a douche.

THE DEATH of MUSIC:

Earlier in the week, I got sucked in to a conversation with a young lady that insisted Avril Lavigne was not only "punk", but "hardcore". WTF?

I tried to explain, that while I didn't feel the need to shove an icepick in my ear when her music started playing, she was in no way, shape, manner or form, punk or hardcore. She didn't get it.

Shifting gears, I attempted to give a punk rock history lesson. I gave up when she couldn't name any of the Ramones...more accurately, she couldn't name them by first OR last name. (sigh - I feel old).

Random Thoughts

Dear Charles,

I need your help. Your theories are being sorely tested, and possibly proven. In fact, I fear the next stage of evolution is happening as I write this. Homosapiens are being replaced by Asshats, Douches and Uber-Douches. Allow me to point a few of these new breeds of "men" out to you:

Excuse me, can I please get off the train before you try to cram into the car? If that's too much to ask, how about stepping on the train sliding out of the doorway so I can still get off without having to squeeze by you? (Asshat)

When you sit on the train, do you think you could not sit with your legs spread ridiculously far apart? You're not fooling anyone. Your junk AIN'T that big. You're just trying to take up as much room as possible so the poor old lady getting on at the next stop doesn't try to sit next to you. (Douche)

If you've picked up take-out for dinner, in the name of all that is holy, do NOT dine on the train. I don't want to smell your meal, watch the grease accumulate on your chin and shirt, or see the food being ground down in your open mouth because Mommy and Daddy never taught you how to chew with your mouth closed. I also don't want to see you throw the refuse (wrappers, chicken bones, etc.) on the floor of the subway. (Douche)

If you've ever been denied entry to a bar because you were too intoxicated, it's OK. People get drunk. It's not a big deal. If you proceeded to argue with the bouncer/bartender/whatever, you're a Douche.

No one that has ever been denied entry to a drinking establishment, or asked to leave an establishment, has ever been able to successfully fight their way into being allowed to enter/stay. No one, in the history of drinking, has ever gotten a free bar tab for "whoopin' the bouncers ass". If you've ever suffered this delusion, you're a dill-hole and a Douche.

If, after you've picked a fight for the above mentioned reasons and gotten your ass handed to you, you subsequently called the cops to file a complaint, you're an Uber-Douche. You're also probably gonna spend the night in jail (if you drop the soap, let it go).

Urinating on a subway/bus, in a bar (in a place other than the restroom), on the door of an apartment or anywhere near a church or school...earns you the status, without reservation or exception, of Uber-Douche.

If you're 40-plus years old, and instantly fall in love with a 24 year old girl on facebook or myspace after seeing her picture, you're sad. If, after a few online chats, you get jealous because she works late, you're a loser. If, after being advised to let it go and get on with your life, you continue to inundate the girl with dozens of emails, fb or myspace messages, AIM messages, etc over the next 72 hours, you're instantly elevated to Uber-Douche.

"what do you mean my id is no good", "do you know who I am/my father is", "you can't keep me out, I know the law/it's a public place"...Asshat, Douche, Douche.

The following institutions deserve a little attention...

The MTA - After getting caught cooking the books just a few years ago, they've subsequently demanded fare increases EVERY YEAR SINCE. Institutional Douchebaggery

*honorable mention* - the citizens of NYC that haven't demanded to see the books every single year since the year of the cooked books. I love this city, but there are too many absolute fucking mouth-breathers.

ConEd and the NY Water Authority - Conservation is working. Usage of both electricity and water has been greatly reduced. The reward? Rate increases of 14% and 7% respectively. The logic? They've still got to meet their budget, so they're gonna get the money one way or another. WTF??? When I finally leave NY, I'm leaving all the lights on, turning on all the faucets, and nailing the front door shut. Institutional Uber-Douche.

All utilities mentioned can kiss my big country ass.

Civilian group mention...

The Critical Mass group - If you're not familiar with these fucktards, they meet up, ride through the streets of Manhattan, blocking traffic and breaking traffic laws to promote the need for mass transit. WTF??? These asshats are protesting too many cars in the city with the most extensive train system in the friggin' hemisphere, if not the world. Every month, these dipshits use the transportation ruse to interfere with life just because they're douchebags. When the NYPD attempted to organize them, so at least emergency vehicles could travel without interference, they sued on "freedom of speech" grounds. Still in the courts, this group has been elevated to hippie-wannabe Uber-Douche.

Please, Charles, I need you now more than ever. Tell me it's gonna be OK before I run amok and start punching these ass-clowns in the neck.

Love,

Matty