Tales from the Boobie Bar! (Now with extra anger inside!)
This is a two part suck! Yay!
Part 1:
A largish man in his 40s came in tonight. He was also quite the douchebag-verbally cruel to the girls and whatnot. So my turn comes to go around to him.
Me=^_^
G=Guy
Me=*dancedancesmilesmile* Hi!
G=Hi, and what is YOUR name?
Me=Kestrel ^_^ How are yo-
G=CASTOR? Like the OIL? *condecending smirk, tone of 'I'm better than you'*
Me=*returns the smirk and tone in kind* No, dear-KESTREL, like the BIRD.
G=*confused look* Castroool-?
Me=K-E-S-T-R-E-L.
G=OH. So, like a finch.
Me=...what?
G=A finch is a bird! So it's like a kestrel! *triumphant look*
Me=...sweetie, a finch is like a kestrel in the way that a domestic kitten is like a grown ocelot. Same type of animal, wildly different sizes and behaviours. Not a perfect analogy, but close enough.
G=Humph. Well, that's the first time I've ever LEARNED anything from a stripper! HA!
Me=Maybe because it's the first time you ever listened.
G=...oh, well *confused*...oh.
Not really that bad, right? I didn't think so either-I deal with this sort of idiocy daily. But!
Part 2:
About an hour after my run in with the cock-knocker up there, it was time for me to go. The aforementioned cock-knocker was still in the bar, and had been there for a few hours at that point.
My manager walked me out to my car. As I'm putting my bags in my car, my manager and I are both startled to hear loud barking. We turn, and the truck next to me has its windows cracked and a German Shepherd in it. I asked the manager if anyone was in just picking up a 6 pack (we sell 6 packs in the titty bars here in PA), and he said no. I asked the manager if there was anything he could do-like make an announcement to the bar or something asking the man with X truck to return to his vehicle or some such, and he said no-but if I wanted, I could call it in to Animal Control. I joked with the manager, saying I bet that the vehicle and dog belonged to the asshole.
(Again-I'm in Pennsylvania. The temperature has been freezing today-hovering around the 20's [F, not C]. Leaving an animal in a car for an extended period of time in those temperatures can hurt it.)
I get in my car, lock my doors, the manager goes inside. I'm picking up my phone to call my husband, when I see Mr. Cock-Knocker, Esq., walk out of the bar. I watch. He walks to-you guessed it-the truck next to me.
To sum this all up:
Not only was he a total asshole to everyone IN the bar, but he left his dog out in FREEZING TEMPERATURES for SEVERAL HOURS so that he could.
I was -speechless-. By the time anger took over again, he'd pulled away.
If he ever comes in again, he is getting a fucking lecture from me.
Grr.