I had to cut off a Marine because he bit a woman's ass who was dancing on the bar. The bouncers escorted him outside (he was extremely intoxicated but compliant and apologetic) and a police officer chatted with him for a few minutes before sending him off in a cab. Later the officer told us the Marine just got back from serving his second tour in Iraq which is why he didn't get arrested.
Walked up to the bar at my local, ordered a 90 Shillings. Bartender (Buddy) says, nope. I ask why not, she says "If you can pronounce it you can have it.
Only time I've ever been cut off there.
About 2:30 some afternoon, I sat down at a bar in Chicago that will remain nameless, ordered a fine craft brew and proceeded to mind my own business. After a few minutes, an inconceivably drunk old man, who must have been in the bathroom, sat down on the stool next to me.
He leaned over in his chair and tried to strike up a conversation. When I say he was unintelligible, I hope you understand the size of the understatement my use of that word is. He was speaking in a dialect that I can only describe as a combination of Klingon, Old Sea Captain, and Pig Latin.
I turn and say to him, "Listen old man, I can't understand a single fuckin' word you're sayin'."
He leans back and looks at me for a moment like he's angry, then a smile breaks on his face and he laughs. He pats me on the shoulder and I believe he says, "You're all right," but I'm not entirely sure.
Then he yells to the bartender by grunting and holding up one finger as if to say, "another." The bartender rolls his eyes and while pouring the beer says, "This is it, Frank."
In a moment of clarity, Frank blurts out perfectly, "I'll tell you when I'm finished," slaps some money on the bar and laughs again.
Frank receives his beer and looks it over, mumbling incoherently. He finally raises it up to cheers me. I cheers him and take a sip. He stares at his beer in the air while mumbling again and finally takes a drink.
All seems fine.
Next thing I know, I hear glass shatter on the floor next to me. As I turn to look, Frank is falling into my stool and onto the ground. Almost as he hits the ground he starts puking all over the floor. I jump off my stool to get him on his side.
I swear to all that is Holy, the bartender leans over the bar and says, "Damn it, Frank, not again!"
I snap around to the bartender, "This has happened before?! And you kept serving him?!" The bartender doesn't respond and calls the paramedics.
Frank woke up before the medics arrived, and started mumbling about his drink. The medics came in and demanded they take Frank for supervision. Frank doesn't want to leave, he wants another drink. The police arrive and force Frank in a stair chair with the medics.
After the commotion died down and Frank was off with the medics, I ask the bartender again, "This has happened before and you continued to serve him? Can't you get in trouble for that?" The guy says, "Frank likes to drink. Never drives home, always takes a cab. Sorry about that. Your next one is on me."
And free beer is the best beer.
Not my story but my friend's. He was very drunk and decided he wanted to become more drunk. So he headed for the bar, but tripped over his own foot and stumbled. This was spotted by a bouncer and he was quickly removed from the bar. He stumbles down the street 20 meters and then needs to throw up. He holds up his hand to stop himself from spewing, but instead it explodes all over his hand and he bends over and throws up in a low lying hedge. He straightens up and wipes his mouth and gets ready for the drunken stumble home when a girl who had previously been kicked out walks towards him and grabs his vomit covered hand in an attempt to convince the bouncers that they were just a happy couple going out for a drink. They walk, vomit covered hand in hand, up to the bouncers and confidently attempt walk in. She is stopped at the door and he breezes past and back into the bar, ready for round two.
One time this group of young 20-somethings came into my bar. One of them was obviously very drunk. He couldn't make direct eye-contact and he had a severe case of the wobbles, let's call him "Keg-Stand". I made the whole group of people their drinks, and tell Keg-Stand all I could give him was water. He complained and grudgingly took the water over to a table with his friends.
Soon after, one of the others in the group orders two more brews, and when I'm not paying attention gives one of them K-Stand. After some time, I spotted him drinking and calmly walked over and took his drink away. The guy, almost by gut reaction, took a swing at me. That was a first for me, and I've been at this gig for a while.
His ended up hitting a barstool and injured his hand. Fortunately, one of my regulars grabbed him by the back of his upper-arm and we took Keg-Stand and his drink-buying friend outside.
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