Another night...

"You're going to card me?? I've got pubic hair older than you!" said the older woman, who hurriedly tried to brush by me at the door last night.

I put my arm out to stop her from entering.

"Sorry ma'am. I still need to check your ID. Policy." I responded.

The woman impatiently huffed and rolled her eyes as she dug through her purse to find her ID. When she found it, she handed it to me. I scanned it quickly and gave it back. She snatched it out of my hand and went inside, going out of her way to act incredibly annoyed that I had inconvienced her so.

This isn't an uncommon scene. Older folks are difficult at the door. Either they'll assume they won't be carded or act insulted because they aren't carded. It's a lose-lose situation.

The truth is that I don't have to card them, but I'll ask them for it anyway. Their reaction gauges if I actually do card them. The lady above was a bitch, so I made her stand out there and dig through her purse and show me her ID. It was my own little "fuck you" to someone who can't appreciate that my entire purpose at the bar is to check everyones ID.

In other news, I was standing in the bathroom last night washing my hands, when the guy behind me shoved a handful of paper towels down the back of his pants, wiped his ass, walked over to the stall and proceeded to smear the paper towels all over the the face of a guy who was currently pissing in said stall.

I left the bathroom. Quickly.