When the only tip you leave is your phone number
Yes, we live for that shit. You think I spent 40+ hours learning over 50 cocktails to make money? Hell no! I did it for all the charming men that walk into bars on tuesday nights and complain about their wives, then expect they earn a pity call.
When you order your drink at 8, happy hour ends at 8, and you don't get the price and make me call my manager to change it
Yes bitch, you came too late. I love calling my sexist ass boss over and watch him eagerly plug his number in to change the price for your cheap ass. You better give me the price difference in your tip for all your damn fussing.
When I tell you I'm in school and you're surprised that I'm completing a bachelors degree
Wow you're in college? At NYU? You can't be that smart to be working here. No seriously? So why are you working?
Tell me to remake your drink, then comment on my ass as I turn around to get a new cup.
Wait for me after the bar closes to see if I want to hangout.
Yes, I would love to grab a nice dinner with you at 2 am with you and your beer belly, you fuckin creep.
Expect me to remember your name
You're too drunk to even remember your own name, dumbass.
Yes, we live for that shit. You think I spent 40+ hours learning over 50 cocktails to make money? Hell no! I did it for all the charming men that walk into bars every tuesday and complain about their wives to me and expect a pity call.


















