The Whine Bar

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The Start of a Bad Joke!

A Blonde, a Man and an Irishman walk into a bar. Who do you serve?

What if I then told you that the Blonde was pregnant, the Man was a priest and the Irishman was hammered because his wife had just died?

A few nights ago I was confronted with this situation. Now, I don’t consider myself particularly religious, I believe in the right for women to choose what they do with their own body and, even against the majority, I don’t have anything against the Irish. But, on this night I found myself hesitating at the beer taps.

First to be culled from the list was the drunk leprechaun. I figured that if nothing else it was illegal for me to serve him in that state. The other two weren’t as easy.

The priest was next. As I am not affiliated with any one church I could rationalise it easy. Where I found myself struggling was that this man had taken a vow to abstain and his ‘flock’ (is that right?) trusted him. What to do?

I considered the woman with child. What if she was just ordering for a friend? If only. Nope, the bottle of wine she had ordered was for herself, and baby I guess. Then again, who was I to judge? Would it make me a hypocrite of Women’s Rights to refuse her service?

Coward as I am, I passed them on to another tender. They could live with the decision.

What would you do?

Gen Y: 1 Gen X: 0

So last night was the first night in a long time I came close to reaching across the bar and slapping someone across the face!

On this particularly busy Sunday afternoon I spent the better part of my shift serving customers who all raved about their great weekends. However, they all had the look of impending doom as Monday inched closer and closer.

For one guy, we shall call him Richard (better known to friends and bartenders as Dick), Mondayitis had already struck. He came in about 4pm. Phone to ear, iPad clutched under arm and a voice that could be heard down the street. Still talking away on the phone he approaches the bar and yells across the person I am already serving to order a lemon, lime and bitters with no lemon wedge.

Trying to be polite I just smile,nod and continue the current order. When I finish I begin to make his drink. Remembering he asked for no lemon I instead garnish with a slice of lime. BIG MISTAKE. Upon dropping the wedge into the top of his glass I hear a loud grunt coming from Dick. He walks over and, still talking to the person on the other end of the phone, says “These youngins, they never listen. I know right, so hard to get good service from their generation”. He then removes the phone from his ear, smiles a smile that says “I pity you” and slowly, pronoucing every syllable says ” I asked for no lemon”.

Looking down at the glass I assume he is talking about the lime I had placed in there. Remembering the mantra the customer is always right, I fight the urge to inform him that it is in fact a lime and I simply make him a new drink. With NO garnish.

A couple of hours later, after I had shaken off the incident, I see him heading for the bar. As I am not serving anyone at this point I decide to begin his order so it is ready for him as he gets there. I place it in front of him and slowly, prouncing every sylable state “lemon, lime and bitters with NO lemon OR lime wedge”

He looks up at me puzzled. “You remember” he says surprised.

“Yes, you see sir, we youngins may not listen but we never forget. That one is on the house”.

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