TalesFromYourServer: The cold, harsh light of day

This is a short tale from about seven years ago at an upscale pub I’ve previously posted about.

It’s a Sunday morning, and one of our regulars ® has come in to collect the card he used for his tab after drunkenly forgetting it the previous night, and the following conversation takes place:

R: You cut me off last night.

Me: I did.

R: You didn’t cut (other regular) off.

Me: (other regular) wasn’t out in the street at 11 last night singing Thunderstruck at the top of his lungs.

R: ……fair enough.

And that, going against all the odds, is how a customer agreed with me that he’d had enough.

By: scoob666