♔ 007 ⌊ t e x t ⌉ Ninety-nine problems, but a bitch ain't one.
So last night there was this guy at the bar - he kept going on and on about how his wife had left him, and how miserable he was, and.
Yeah.
Anyway, he asked me for another drink, and I suggested I maybe call him a cab and send him home instead? He could barely stand; I dunno how long he'd been there, but it was only nine in the evening and he was way more tanked than anyone I've seen on an actual night out. He didn't want to go home, though, and when I refused to serve him anymore on account of how drunk he was, he reached across the bar, grabbed me by the collar of my shirt, and pulled back his fist.
So I. Kind of. Smashed the pint glass I was holding over his head? Man, he went down so hard I thought I'd killed him, and now I'm probably going to lose my job and go to jail or something, and I don't wanna go to jail!
-What should I do?
Yeah.
Anyway, he asked me for another drink, and I suggested I maybe call him a cab and send him home instead? He could barely stand; I dunno how long he'd been there, but it was only nine in the evening and he was way more tanked than anyone I've seen on an actual night out. He didn't want to go home, though, and when I refused to serve him anymore on account of how drunk he was, he reached across the bar, grabbed me by the collar of my shirt, and pulled back his fist.
So I. Kind of. Smashed the pint glass I was holding over his head? Man, he went down so hard I thought I'd killed him, and now I'm probably going to lose my job and go to jail or something, and I don't wanna go to jail!
-What should I do?