Drunken customers

This happened a few years ago. I didn't take the call, but listened in on speakerphone.

 

The summer after my freshman year in college I was working at an ice cream stand. A guy in his early 20s comes to the window just before closing and asks for the manager by name. I tell him the manager is not there and he'll be in tomorrow. He asks me "Who the fuck are you?"
I tell him I work there and somehow he interprets that as me wanting to fight him. From that point on, everything I say he takes as a threat (even though I kept apologizing to him for whatever I did to set him off) and it just makes him even more mad. One of my co-workers somehow defused the situation and learned that the guy was in an accident and was "so banged up he didn't know what happened" and the guy eventually went away.
The next morning I talked to the manager about it. He saw the guy that morning and the guy said he didn't even remember yelling at me.

 

Talk about real estate.

 

I worked for a Mafia owned bar/rest. in high school as a bus boy. Never came to blows with anyone, but there was always a threat. I recall a drunken brawl between bikers which sent them flying over a series of tables. Glass and dishes were everywhere. I was shitting myself because at that precise moment I was the only male employee around. I felt like one of those guys in the Westerns which had to dive behind the bar. But, after two minutes of the rumble and shouting, the big Italian bar tender swooped out of the kitchen and sent em flying out the door.

Some drunks sat down one time in a table which was promised to some customers who had been waiting a half hour. I politely told them to leave several times and had to call the rough neck owner to throw 'em out of the bar.

I liked that job.

 

Is that you, Spider?

 

I used to have two drunks call me regularly. One was a good old boy. He called to brag about his kid, who was playing second base at Buttfuck Springs Junior College or something or other. When he wasn't prattling on about his kid, this guy was mad about the quality of the lights for the high school field. The other was a woman, it was sad, who was trying to get over the sudden death of her husband. She wanted her twin daughters to get basketball scholarships. She hated the coach and said he was impeding their progress. I heard from them so often that I was uncomfortable with hearing that much about their lives. I felt like I ought to have been paid more just for listening.