So.
It's been a long time since I could think of anything worth writing about. Nothing worth making public, anyway, and certainly not anything that anyone I know has any interest in reading.

This weekend was a bit rough.

I had a good night on Friday and a heckuva hangover to prove it on Saturday. I know that if I wake up with a decent foghat, then I must have had a very good time. I got into at least two arguments with crazy gay guys on Friday night, which I love doing, especially when I am right and they have no argument to begin with.

Saturday was crazy busy, and we all had a great time. Everybody made money, and all of our customers were happy.

Well, except for one guy. I don't even consider him a customer, much less a human being. He is more like a fucking parasite. His name is Derrick, and I've been watching the guy for months. He mooches drinks off people because he's broke. Why is he broke? Well, he is a trust fund baby and spent $30K in one month on cocaine. That was a while back, but keep in mind that his parents cut him off. So anyway, he "knows" people who come to Dish. He introduces himself to people and somehow gets free drinks from them. I have watched him do this EVERY SINGLE DAY for the last year or so. I see him riding his bike as fast as he can, and then he parks the motherfucker in front of my restaurant, and for hours, I see him mooch drinks off of people, or even worse, sit down at an empty table and drink people's leftovers. Bus tub buffet, indeed.

So, I've been keeping track of him and wondering how in the hell he feels, every day of his life, knowing that he's used people for free booze. What a schmuck, right?

And when he doesn't have money (which is, like always), he drinks one beer ($3) and switches to Coke until he spots his next victim. It's not fun to watch. He's fucking pathetic. What a waste.

Back to Saturday night. He "knew" a couple of people here, and he sat at their table and ordered a martini, completely neglecting to relay to his server that his "friend" was buying his drink. At the end of the evening, the server came to me and said that Derrick couldn't pay his tab. A Grey Goose Martini costs $8.50. I noted that, earlier in the evening, the gentleman with whom Derrick was sitting earlier had paid up and gone home. Here's kinda what went down, almost verbatim:
I said, "Derrick, how are you gonna pay for that?"
His reply? "My friend was supposed to take care of my drinks."
Me: "Well, he's not here, and if you leave without paying Holt [the server] for that, then you're stealing from me, and if you don't tip him, then you're stealing from him, so you better pay for that, and do it ASAP because we're closing."
D: "You can try my credit cards, but they won't work."
Me: "Then why do you carry them around if you can't pay for shit with them? Why the fuck would you walk around with maxed-out credit cards? Do they remind you of the good old days?"
D: "C'mon, man, he was supposed to buy my drinks. I can come back and pay tomorrow."
Me: "We don't carry tabs over to the next day, and I know for fucking sure that you are not coming back to pay that fucking tab, and you know it too."
Holt: "I'm not paying for your drinks either, dude, so don't even look at me like that."
Me: "By the way Derrick, I've been watching your ass for months, and I fucking know your game, so pay for your purchase and get the fuck out of my restaurant and don't you come back here anymore."
In the meantime I got the security guy on him and asked him to not let Derrick out of his sight. I heard Derrick mumble something about being arrested, but I was so irate at that point that I ignored the remark. It was too late to turn back, if you know what I mean...
I then witnessed a frantic scramble. Derrick was going up to complete strangers, our regular customers, and asking them if they could spot him the cash to pay his bill! I followed him to at least 5 people. People I like and know very well, like Kevin, who was his last chance. I went up to Kevin and said "Don't you do that. Do not pay for his shit." He said "Okay?!" Awesome. He thanked me later. He has no idea whom Derrick is.
Then I got in Derrick's face.
Me: "I'm going to erase that drink from Holt's tabs, and for the last fucking time, if you cannot pay for shit, then do not order it. If that guy was your friend, he would have let the server know that he was going to take care of you. You didn't tell the server that your "friend" was buying your drinks because you thought that you could just tack it onto his tab because he was at a large table and you didn't think he'd notice an extra drink on the bill. I am not stupid. I saw it from the start, and you know what you did was wrong as fuck. If you win the lottery, I still don't want to see your face in this fucking bar again. You can't pay for shit, and you never have been able to, and you can't tip for shit either, even when you had money, so get the fuck out of here and don't come back. I have been watching you, and I'm tired of you stressing my servers out, and I'm tired of stressing out over some puny scum like you, so I don't want to see your fucking face near this place again. Get the fuck out of here and don't you ever step foot in this motherfucker again. You hear me? I WILL have you arrested for trespassing. Get out! Now go!"

And that was that. I had a couple of shots to celebrate my victory.

On Sunday, I fired someone for the first time. It was very difficult because I like this person, but she is obviously not a good fit for our restaurant. If you can't make it to work, then you don't have a job. Period. No more Mr. Nice Guy. Lay off the coke and Xanax and get your shit together. Leaving me a message about your car is not, in effect, speaking directly to me , and therefore you are not excused for the evening. Add to that: walking out in your job, getting sent home for being coked up, missing a meeting, and disappearing to flit about the neighborhood to find coke, and selling bags of coke across the table in full view of a full restaurant. Too many chances, I guess. Nothing gets past me anymore. Maybe I'm jaded or my senses are set at an alarmingly high level. I don't know, but I AM NOT TAKING SHIT FROM PEOPLE ANYMORE. Get the fuck out of my face with your bullcrap. I don't need it.

Ohh-kay. Eventful? You bet. Stressful? Sure.

Ahh, my weekend in a nutshell. Anyone want to go skydiving or something?