Two middle-aged men walked into the bar already noticeably buzzed, talking just loud enough to be obnoxious, and plopped down onto a couple of stools. The bar wasn't particularly slow, but it was mellow enough that the vocal volume of the new duo invited a few "shut the fuck up" glances from the other customers.
After trying to start some nonsensical conversations with me and the surrounding patrons, the new guys finally settled into a meal and muddled conversation among themselves.
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The "Medical Emergency" That Wasn't
I happened to glance over and see one of the guys break out a tiny plastic baggie with some crushed-up white powder in it. As he started digging into the bag, I shouted,
"Hey you can't do that shit in here! You guys need to close out and leave."
He became aggressive. "What, do you think this is cocaine?!"
Me: "Yeah, that's exactly what I think."
Customer:"This is my diabetes medication."
"That's a weird way to carry around medication."
"I can't believe you'd accuse me of doing drugs. We're closing out, but I want your name before I leave."
"It's TJ. I can write it down so you don't forget."
After closing them out, I walked to the other side of the bar and heard them pleading their case to the other customers at the bar, not realizing they were surrounded by other bartenders.
I heard one of the off-duty bartenders say, "Yea, man, that's fucking weird, and it looks sketchy."
When I came back to tell them now it's just time to go because they're bothering other customers, they demanded an apology from me before they left.
By the time they finally started stumbling out the door, they made sure to deliver one final, "We're never coming to this shithole again."
✌
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