Mr. Tower Of Power

Guy’s at the bar, he’s been pretty annoying all night, asking me, what was the last song that just played? I tell him, you know, this is not my playlist. It’s my fellow bartender’s. He pushes. Can you just look for me? Jesus. And if you know how an iPod works, you can’t just push it, and back up, to see what the song is. When you push it, and go back, it goes to the first song on the playlist, and then you have to scroll down, to find the damn song. Last thing I want to do, when I’ve got customers waiting, and dishes piling up. Unfortunately, my fellow bartender has left for the night, so he can’t quickly give this guy an answer.

Then, he says to me, holding up his phone, pointing to the place where you plug it in to charge, do you have love for an iPhone 5? I say, sorry. My dick won’t fit in there.

Whatever. I grab his phone, plug it into my charger, which I love to do.

Catch my sarcasm, please.

Thanks.

Later on, he grabs a handful of coasters from the bar, and starts building a tower with them. Who is this guy? I have to admit, he’s pretty good at it, but I find it to be annoying, and juvenile. I don’t say anything, he has a tab going behind the bar.

Get me?

It’s about three layers high, I want to take my own coaster, and throw it in the middle of it, to see it collapse. I’m sure he’d get all bent out of shape about that. There’s two female friends of mine at the end of the bar, I go to them, ask them if they need anything. One of them says, I want to throw this coaster at that guy’s tower. I say, no. Don’t do it.

No. I actually say, do it.

Then I backtrack, say, I don’t think he’ll like it. He seems pretty intense about it, might get pissed.

He has a tab going behind the bar.

Yeah, I’m repeating myself, if you don’t understand.

One of them says, I’m going to do it. He catches wind of her plan, and starts covering the tower with his arms, as if protecting a baby from harm. This guy is such a nerd. I just imagine him never getting laid. And he’s an all right looking guy.

Both chicks toss coasters anyway, unfortunately missing.

I watch passively, trying not to get involved, because

He has a tab going behind the bar.

The girls, being as far as they are, give up after awhile. There’s a bunch of coasters all over the place, but at this point, I JUST WANT TO SEE THE COASTER TOWEL TUMBLE DOWN.

About ten minutes later, the girls get there coats on, to go outside for a smoke. While passing the guy, one of the girls takes a coaster, and slams it into the tower, making it all fall down.

He reacts, not in a good way. Oh no. I worked so hard on this.

Get a life, dude.

They leave, he sits there, looking at a mound of coasters.

Five minutes later, the girls return, sit back down on the bar. I would say the girls are about seven seats away from Mr. Tower Of Power. I go up to him, because I foresee trouble about to happen, and say, can I run your tab? He says, yeah. Put another Jack and Coke on it, then you can run it. I go get it, run it, hand it to him, plaster a smile on my face, and say, thanks brother. Here you go.

The card is now in front of him, not behind the bar.

And you know what that means. Transaction done.

He signs it, starts drinking his last drink.

I start doing dishes, begin the process of closing behind the bar. I take the liquors we put in ice, return them to the cooler. I get the mats, take them to the sink, wash them off. This takes about 15 minutes. I look up at some point, I see Mr. Tower grab some coasters, and start throwing them at the girls. I stop, and say to him, please don’t do that. He says, why? They did it to me.

This guy is a child.

I say, they did it to me! In a baby voice, mimicking him.

I turn my back for a moment, look back, and he’s throwing a coaster at the girls. This guy’s done.

All right, I say. OUT! I point to the door. He says, why? I say, I asked you to stop throwing coasters. And you keep on doing it. Get out! He gets up, like a sad puppy, repeats himself, saying, they threw some at me.

I ignore him, hoping this guy will leave peacefully.

Nope. He stands there like a doofus, staring at me. AND THAT’S ANOTHER THING. He’s been sitting there at the bar, just staring at me all night.

Between building his lame tower of power.

He leaves, after saying his sorry’s, and his, you don’t have to be an asshole about it.

I finish up cleaning the bar, say good-bye to the girls,

And pick up numerous coasters off the sticky floor.

-Clint Curtis

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