Being back is one thing. Being better than ever is another. I’m back, but not better. More of the same, really. I was on vacation and it very much wasn’t a case of “it’s good to be back.”

I got sick on my fourth day back and missed two days of work. I exhausted my sicks days, after exhausting my PTO to take the vacation.

To make matters worse, after getting cleared of being sick the first time (after 4 days where every swallow felt like a thousand tiny razor blades were going down my throat), I got sick again. Damn you, the common cold.

After nearly passing out on Day 3, night job 1, I somehow recovered to work night job 2 a day and a half later. It wasn’t great.

It rained. All. Night. Long. And the next day it rained, although slightly more tolerable.

And you wouldn’t believe the shit I had to deal with. It’s like people reserved their terrible human being-ness until I got back from my concert/baseball game road trip.

Let's get the IDs out of the way before we get into the abject stupidity.

436: One For the Money, Two Is Just For Show

I almost had two from the same girl. You could see the duplicate fake she had already in her purse, which meant she likely got in someplace else that night. It's always a good thing to remember - fakes come in pairs. And these probably cost her a pretty penny. 

437: Arkansaw What You Did There

Sometimes I get ahead of myself and overlook the painfully obvious. The ID was already peeling from the corner but I was more intrigued at the Arkansas nature when everyone in her group was either from Michigan or Kansas. I asked to see the social media where it revealed she is a Jayhawk, although not a graduate until 2021. 

438: Old Yeller

She was the last of the group and everyone was waiting for her to walk into the bar. It was a short wait. After a quick check I yelled "I took yer friend's FAKE!" and they proceeded to walk out single file, knowing exactly what happened. 

439: Fine and Dandy

The woman said thank you after I took her bad Photoshopped fake, This needs to happen more often.

440: Spelling D-

The nose shape is big tell-tale sign that the picture matches the person. Noses are like that, somehow they leap off the card. Too sloped, or flat, angled or protruding, and you can instantly tell if everything lines up. Well, this didn't line up, so I hit her with the basic.

Not the address or the ZIP code or even the birthday. I asked her to spell her first name.

"R...A...H...C...H...E....L."

Wut?

R. A. H?

RAH?

For Rachel?

Are you Egyptian? 

Are you spelling it phonetically?

"I spelled it. I'm Rachel. Can I go in now?"

After a few minutes of her friend trying to get her inside, to no avail, she came back and tried to spell it again. More confidently, this time.

"It's really me. I'm Rachel. R.A.C.H.A.E.L."

Poor, Rachel. She deserves better friends who know how to spell her name.

441: Insult to Injury

There was another fake in the same group as Rahchael. It didn't take any extra effort. And then I kicked the rest of the group out.

Overheard and Misunderstood

Here's a collection of things overheard the last two weekends with little to no context.

"I promise I'm not lactating."

"Do I look like someone who pissed their pants?"

"Shut up you bald retard ... guy."

"What, cus I got a blanket on my head you ain't lettin me in? I got 38 cents how bout that?"

"East or West? What do you play?" This guy doesn't even know what he does. (Uncontrollable laughter) Doesn't even know east or west."

"I'm sorry for being black." (Then handed me $2)

"You didn't want to come. You on some pregnant shit. Everybody crazy."

"Hey, how much for 10 to get in? $20?" (Later shows up with 17.)

"Hey, my friend is probably going to get kicked out. Don't hold it against me. (Friend gets kicked out after accusing staff of pick-pocketing him.)

And then when friend returns the next day ...

"No hard feeling, but this guy (Points to Peanut) was stealing from me."

And then the next weekend ...

"I wasn't even here last weekend!" (Was kicked out Friday, told to cool it for a while on Saturday, showed up with same crew 6 days later.)

"This isn't my phone."

"This isn't my wallet either."

"Can I be security? Is my nose big enough?" (Still can't decide if this was anti-Semitic.) 

"I have my medical marijuana card as a backup." (Which in no way possible extends your voided Drivers License.)

Old and Douchy

We must have had five wedding parties, 13 bachelorette parties, and a smattering of dudes trying way too hard to prove whose truck nuts were bigger. Hardly anyone spent their 21st birthday at the bar the last few weekends, but there's no doubt in my mind some accidental babies were conceived when too many little black dresses saw the right faded jeans, spit cup and button-down combo.

But what caught our eye was the single most significant act of jackassery I could ever hope to witness in 10 lifetimes.

Two guys. Each over 6-foot-3 were messing with each other in the line. 

The lankier one decides it's going to be a great idea to jump on the blonde's back.

And then the Uber driver pulls up. And the girl walks along the sidewalk.

If your imagination isn't running wild, let me fill in some details for you.

Because of Lanky and Blondie both being taller men, Lanky needs a running head start. Now, there's not much room to run, so he starts in the bushes to gain momentum. Well, this momentum throws Blondie way off balance due to Lanky running at Blondie instead of jumping up into the air.

Now that Lanky is grabbing onto Blondie like a Cowboy taming a wild stallion, the stallion, by its nature, must buck off the intruder.

While bucking, the two start moving forward uncontrollably. 

Just as the girl is walking along the sidewalk, and the Uber pulls up to the curb. 

Serendipity. It Happens.

The weight of Lanky proves to be too much for Blondie, and he starts careening toward the ground, which incidentally, makes the perfect form tackle against the girl walking by, who is now slamming into the hood of the Uber.

And Blondie? His head makes the roundest dent on a car I have ever seen. Right into the passenger wheel well. That's a concussion. And yet, Lanky got the worst of it.

Remember the guy calling me a "bald retard ... guy?" Well, that was Lanky AFTER talking to the police and trading information with the Uber driver. Then he walks over and whips his ID out like nothing ever happened. 

I think I'll adopt the same mindset. Working at the bar in July never happened. Bring on August.