Friday night was slow. I was all ready to walk out the door at 11:00 when 20 people come strolling up to the bar. One guy hands me his credit card,
“Whatever these guys want.”
Another guy shoves a really tall older guy towards the bar and shouts at me,
“This guy used to play for the New England Patriots.”
“Can you believe that?”
I can believe that.
He shouts at the former football player,
“Give her your business card.”
He starts handing out cards to his friends at the bar.
The guy shouts at me again, maybe it’s his only volume level,
“Did you get his card? Do you know who he is?”
“It’s ok. Can I get you something to drink?”
He could play for the New England Patriots right now and getting his business card would not help me know who he is.
There’s more shouting. A guy takes a sip of his Dewars and yells at me,
“This is terrible. I don’t know what this is, but I’ll take a Dewars on the rocks.”
The first guy shouts again,
“Put everything on my tab.”
Next thing I know my general manager is behind the bar. He tells me,
“Some of these people have already been drinking.”
Yes. I’ve noticed.
Two hours later everybody starts closing their tabs. The former football player comes up to the bar,
“Do I have a tab?”
“No, those guys over there bought your drinks.”
He stares at me. I can’t tell if he’s thinking or if nothing is happening. He tries again,
“What’s my tab?”
“Nothing.” This guy seems eligible for those concussion studies they’re doing now.
He pulls $20 out of his wallet and hands it to me. Perfect.
Another guy at the other end of the bar is looking my way. I glance at him. It looks like he’s having some sort of facial twitch. I approach him,
“Are you okay?”
His face keeps contorting. He says,
“I was just trying to…”
“I was just trying to wink at you.”
“Was it attractive?”