Workin in Stupsville

I work at a bar called Tango du Chat, downtown Wilmington, NC, it’s on the corner of Second St. and Princess St. Every night we’re open, there are two types of customers concerning how they treat me and the bartenders. The first type is kind of person who comes in to have a few drinks and is really polite, they usually leave decent tips, and they don’t cause any problems. The second type of person is the kind who I love to throw out. My patience level is extremely low when it comes to these people, they seem to actually believe that they are owed something by everybody in the bar simply because they know one of the owners, or maybe a bartender. Hey genius, the owners are in the bar almost every night, all you have to do is walk up and introduce yourself—not such a prestigious honor when you really think about it. For our purposes, let’s just call these customers stups, because frankly, they’re stupid and ignorant.

Do you, as adult, think that being drunk qualifies as a valid excuse for acting like you own a bar that you have no ownership in? Really, do you think that when it is 2:25 in the morning, and I’ve been dealing with assholes like you all night, that I really care that you know one of the bartenders? If you come into the bar and have…say 4 drinks…and leave a big tip, that’s what, twenty dollars for the drinks and maybe ten dollars for tip? First of all, I’m never going to see any of your tip, and second even if I did, ten dollars isn’t nearly enough for me to put up with your nose-in-the-air, unwarranted pompous asshole attitude when I could just as easily break your arm—and enjoy it a lot more.

The worst part of my job is putting up with these stups. Tango is a nice bar, and I have a cake job. I don’t have to fight often at all, actually have to restrain myself more times than not, don’t have to throw many people out, we don’t get many underage people trying to drink, and the clean-up isn’t bad either. However, these customers who come into the bar thinking that own the place, acting like they have tons of money when they sometimes walk out on a tab are infuriating. I don’t care if you do have money, money is just that, green paper that you buy stuff with. Money won’t keep my from telling you to leave when you’re badgering the bartenders or throwing a fit like little child whose mommy wouldn’t give them ice cream for breakfast, and money definitely won’t keep me from introducing my elbow to your face when you get out of line or try to get in my face.

Don’t be a stup. Bars exist for people to have fun, relax, and enjoy each others company. When you come in and act like a little kid, don’t expect for me to enjoy your antics. I don’t take kindly when all you stups come in my bar and cause problems for everybody, because when you do that, people leave, and we make less money—oh yeah, I forgot to mention that might be little part of the reason we open up every night too.