My New Job
The bar I worked at was insanity central as we were the only bar with a liquor license in central Massachusetts. Mind you; I also have no security (but police know this place well). One night as I’m clocking in and the afternoon bartender is clocking out, a woman walks in. Let’s call her, “Linda.” Linda was a known pill-head in town (I had never met her before), and would come into the bar for our dollar shot specials (Rumple Minze). As the other bartender was leaving, she said, “be careful with her.” I didn’t think much of it as the bar is usually full of people I wouldn’t be friends with. Linda sits down at the bar and asks for a dollar shot, so I pour it, and she sips on it while making rambling (but polite) conversation. It’s not busy, so I chat with her for a couple of minutes and go back to restocking and washing dishes. After about thirty minutes, she asks, “What can I get for 8 dollars?” I said, “a couple of beers, one drink with liquor, blah blah.” She wants a mudslide. I think, “ok, whatever, I’m not busy and chucking Jell-O shots at drunk college kids, so sure. I serve her the drink, and as it starts getting busier, I notice her flagging me down again for another drink as a local had given her some money for another dollar shot. I walk up to her, and she is SMASHED, and it’s not from the drink. She had clearly taken something. She kept asking for another drink every single time I walked by. I politely told her, “I’m not over serving you, and if you don’t want to stay here without a drink, you are free to walk home, or I’ll arrange something for you. Suddenly, I hear crashing and screaming from the bar area and running around the corner only to find Linda coming over the bar. This bitch straight-up jumped over the bar and into the shelves with the bottles behind the bar. I tried to stop her, but she started chucking bottles at me like she was trying out for a minor league baseball team. I call the cops on her, and she was arrested.