Working alongside pissheads has its perks.
I have discovered recently, that whilst I have been relatively sober for the best part of two months now, with only the occasional beer as I have no reason to drink myself silly (eg. The Undercroft of a Monday), that other drunk people can be just as amusing.
Of course there are your piss heads who turn into dicks. But then there are your piss heads that react to alcohol like a monster would to being slain in say... Dungeons and Dragons or Final Fantasy. Like the monsters, they leave behind goodies.
For example, on Thursday afternoon a man came into O'Neills on what I can only assume was a free afternoon for him. He had enjoyed a couple of drinks when suddenly it dawned upon him that actually, he fancied some food from our kitchen. Now, he didn't want something cheap. Oh no, for some reason, he had money and intended to enjoy it. He ordered the 12oz Rib-Eye Steak, minus everything else. All he wanted was a plate of meat and a glass of red wine. No sides, no salad. Nothing. Just meat and wine. So off went the order to our kitchens with me explaining to our chef Haley exactly what this gentlemen wanted.
It came down, went to him, and usually that would be that. The customer would have left, leaving us to clear up after them. But no, he came back to the bar. He wanted to thank the chef personally. So I go upstairs, bring Hayley down, and the man thanks her... via the medium of a £20 note and the compliment that it was the best steak he'd ever had. I don't know what he's eating, but apparently, O'Neills' steaks top the list. Kudos to them for freezing, packing and sending out identical meals to countless O'Neills across the country to guarantee that when grilled, microwaved or fried, they come out identical in each and every pub in the chain.
But after that, things went downhill for the man in question. He broke the delicate fabric of the lunchtime meal ritual. He stayed longer for another glass of red wine. A woman caught his eye. Apparently he liked her smile. Apparently this was excuse enough for him to come to me and attempt to start a £20 tab for her and who we could only assume was her dad. So I explained to the woman that the gentleman wanted to do this. She explained 'Thanks, but no thanks. He's been looking at me for the past half hour and is really creeping me out'. So I returned to the gentlemen with an abridged version of what she said 'Thanks, but no thanks.' What does he say next? Well, first he looked a bit insulted and taken aback and irritatedly said 'Fine. You keep it'.
No complaints here, I'll tell you that now.
So fast forward to Friday night for a little bit of what I anticipate to be a more valuable find. Whilst cleaning up we usually find a lot of stuff has been left behind by those whose senses have been lost to the booze they've consumed. Sometimes a lone shoe, sometimes even stranger, a pair of shoes - meaning someone was so pissed to realize they were leaving in bare feet - unless of course they were carried out. Coats, shirts, jackets, ties and once even a pair of trousers. God knows how we didn't notice the person in their pants. Anywho, suffice to say I found a case. A case with 'Police' scrawled around the outside. I am informed that 'Police' are a rather expensive brand of shades. The shades were intact, inside. I can also say that people very rarely come back for things they lose to our Pub. So excuse me while I go and work out how much these things cost, whether to ebay them or sun myself in them.
Toodles!
Of course there are your piss heads who turn into dicks. But then there are your piss heads that react to alcohol like a monster would to being slain in say... Dungeons and Dragons or Final Fantasy. Like the monsters, they leave behind goodies.
For example, on Thursday afternoon a man came into O'Neills on what I can only assume was a free afternoon for him. He had enjoyed a couple of drinks when suddenly it dawned upon him that actually, he fancied some food from our kitchen. Now, he didn't want something cheap. Oh no, for some reason, he had money and intended to enjoy it. He ordered the 12oz Rib-Eye Steak, minus everything else. All he wanted was a plate of meat and a glass of red wine. No sides, no salad. Nothing. Just meat and wine. So off went the order to our kitchens with me explaining to our chef Haley exactly what this gentlemen wanted.
It came down, went to him, and usually that would be that. The customer would have left, leaving us to clear up after them. But no, he came back to the bar. He wanted to thank the chef personally. So I go upstairs, bring Hayley down, and the man thanks her... via the medium of a £20 note and the compliment that it was the best steak he'd ever had. I don't know what he's eating, but apparently, O'Neills' steaks top the list. Kudos to them for freezing, packing and sending out identical meals to countless O'Neills across the country to guarantee that when grilled, microwaved or fried, they come out identical in each and every pub in the chain.
But after that, things went downhill for the man in question. He broke the delicate fabric of the lunchtime meal ritual. He stayed longer for another glass of red wine. A woman caught his eye. Apparently he liked her smile. Apparently this was excuse enough for him to come to me and attempt to start a £20 tab for her and who we could only assume was her dad. So I explained to the woman that the gentleman wanted to do this. She explained 'Thanks, but no thanks. He's been looking at me for the past half hour and is really creeping me out'. So I returned to the gentlemen with an abridged version of what she said 'Thanks, but no thanks.' What does he say next? Well, first he looked a bit insulted and taken aback and irritatedly said 'Fine. You keep it'.
No complaints here, I'll tell you that now.
So fast forward to Friday night for a little bit of what I anticipate to be a more valuable find. Whilst cleaning up we usually find a lot of stuff has been left behind by those whose senses have been lost to the booze they've consumed. Sometimes a lone shoe, sometimes even stranger, a pair of shoes - meaning someone was so pissed to realize they were leaving in bare feet - unless of course they were carried out. Coats, shirts, jackets, ties and once even a pair of trousers. God knows how we didn't notice the person in their pants. Anywho, suffice to say I found a case. A case with 'Police' scrawled around the outside. I am informed that 'Police' are a rather expensive brand of shades. The shades were intact, inside. I can also say that people very rarely come back for things they lose to our Pub. So excuse me while I go and work out how much these things cost, whether to ebay them or sun myself in them.
Toodles!
posted by Stewart Paske at 1:41 pm
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home