The PSA

This one has been chapping my hide all weekend, so I thought I’d better share –

I work in a high volume bar. Turn and burn to make rent. Our tips are rarely outrageous on the weekends, when all the normals come out to play, but that’s ok because there are usually enough people in the building to make up the difference.

I would like to make a PSA:

If a bartender goes so far as to politely ask you to move away from the bar, you’ve already missed several social cues that most people would realize meant it was time to go. If she then explains to you that a) you’re preventing other people from getting drinks, which they deserve as much as you do; and/or b) you are effectively cock-blocking her from making her salary, and you don’t move, you’re already at three strikes.

When she gets frustrated and starts screeching about loitering and kicking you out herself, you best run, and run fast. We survive on adrenaline back here. And wipe that shocked look off of your face young man, you were very fairly warned.

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