Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Disgusting

The guy I caught trying to steal our plunger last Friday night - by hiding it under his shirt, of course - was the type of customer that we dealt with all weekend.

The plunger formerly resided in the mens restroom and was used quite often by the floor guys to fix clogs in the toilet. Clogs happen a lot in bar restrooms because guys like the one who I caught trying to steal our plunger tend to throw all sorts of shit into them. Beer bottles, cigarettes, paper towels, drugs, and even the entire contents of our bathroom trashcan have been found in the toilet at one point or another. This is by no means a comprehensive list, either.

All to say, the plunger had been used quite a bit, and I found the thought of someone sticking a plunger up their shirt in order to steal it to be incredibly disgusting and ridiculously stupid.

Those were the types that were all over the place on one of the biggest, busiest football weekends of the season. Thousands of them. So, it came as no suprise to me that our conversation wasn't the most intelligent.

"Whadya got there?" I asked our inebriated customer, montioning to under his shirt. He immediately looked like a deer in headlights. Frozen solid. A second later, the plunger dropped from under his shirt to the ground.

"N-N-Nothing," he stammered.

"Now tell me, because I'm very interested to know, why in the world would anyone ever want to steal a plunger out of a nasty, disgusting bar at the end of a really busy night when you know it's covered in God-knows-what?" I said to him.

"Uhh..." he looked to his right at his friend accompanying him. "He told me to do it. I'm a pledge."

"A pledge? How old are you, then?"

"Twenty four," he answered. I couldn't stop staring at his bloodshot, glassed over eyes. He was really drunk and swaying ever so slightly.

I verified this information with his ID. It was legit. I handed it back to him.
"Ok dude, now let's get this straight. You stole a plunger because you're a pledge and he told you to, right?"

"Yea."

"Do you always do everything he tells you to do? Would you jump off a bridge if he told you to?"

"Yes," he said. He looked completely serious. I laughed and rolled my eyes.

"Dude," I said while turning him towards the door and motioning him out. "Just get out. Go. And when you leave, why don't you work on that bridge thing ASAP."

1 Comments:

At 8:14 AM, Blogger Katie said...

ew. and THAT is another reason not to date frat boys. You never know what's been up their shirt!

 

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