As Chad escorted the unruly customer to the door I watched anxiously to see what would happen. Initially, the drunk, obnoxious man complied with my manager’s attempt to eject him from the bar. But as the customer neared the door he turned around, regained his balance, and spoke uncivilized remarks to Chad. Disappointed at this development I cringed as Chad instantly advanced on the jerk to physically remove him from our establishment.
***
It was my only day off from work and university and I was enjoying a few beers at my pub. It was the second favourite place I’ve worked at and I was there with a regular named David. The place was easygoing, the clientele were great, and the prices (especially after staff discounts) were generous. Our pub also had a great selection of local craft beers, which I sampled quite liberally.
Most likely it was Monday or Tuesday as the place wasn’t busy and Chad, our manager, was working. I usually closed the bar Wednesdays through Saturdays and there was only a small number of patrons. It was a mix of regulars, young couples, and blue collar workers, that filled the ranks of our respectable clientele.
Chad was a good boss but we had a more professional relationship. Back then I didn’t consider him a friend but we got along well enough. But while we only hung out a few times I rate him highly as a manager. He was a bit of a know it all and occasionally self-righteous but as a leader he was fair, willing to listen, and had your back. And if he’d chew me out unfairly once every two months I always let it go because in such a mercurial, toxic industry that’s an acceptable ratio.
As a human being I can’t really fault Chad. Besides being stubborn in arguments he was pretty cool. Getting older I tend not to engage in long, pointless arguments, but I dig in my heels occasionally to show I’m not passive. Being of German descent he once suggested the average citizen of Nazi Germany didn’t know about the holocaust so I hit him with a blitzkrieg of facts, statistics, and sources to the point he realized I wasn’t an intellectual lightweight. But we liked to spar and never took such discussions personally. Ultimately, Chad was easygoing, great to work for, and had near encyclopaedic knowledge of beer, music, and pop culture.
***
It was between 630 and 7pm and David, his friend, and I were having a friendly conversation at the bartop. So far the evening had been uneventful and I was glad to have a few hours away from my studies. While I loved university eventually the sum total of assignments, papers, and essays wears down even the most committed student. Thus, it was nice to talk to David and his quiet friend about current events, flying (he wanted to be a pilot), and things that didn’t involve politics or academia.
Suddenly, a man in his early to mid twenties came through the door and brought his bike inside. This alone didn’t bother me, as people steal things inside and out of bars if they aren’t bolted down. But the way he barged in loud and roughly suggested he wasn’t the most…. considerate human being. Needless to say given the title of the chapter his conduct continued to deteriorate.
As he sat at the bar (two stools to my right as I’m forever “lucky”) I quickly seized him up. Because bartenders, on shift or not off tend to size up people and situations instantly to predict if they’ll escalate into problems or violence. And what I observed in the seconds and minutes that followed didn’t exactly provide me with confidence. The man was sloppily dressed, disheveled, was on edge, and looked angry. His interactions with Chad, who had the dubious pleasure to serve him, were even less encouraging.
The young man was blunt, rude, inconsiderate, and frankly unpleasant. Not to the point (at least yet) to merit booting out, but his obnoxious behaviour definitely edged him right up to the red line of most bartenders’ tolerance. But Chad was a veteran of the industry, professional, and far more easygoing than myself. Because he gave that fucker more chances than a broken pistol in a game of Russian roulette. Unfortunately, the man slowly exhausted Chad’s patience, eroded the positive vibes in the room, and had to be separated from the pub.
***
It started, as it usually does with asshole customers, with loud banter, obnoxious comments, and near threatening gestures. This is where jerks and drunken fools, fuelled by liquid courage, test the establishment, customers, and especially the staff to see what they can get away with. Places with toxicity or weak leadership (usually corporate chains) often appease such bastards unless things become volatile enough to call the cops. Respectable, independent restaurants also allow considerable leeway but generally call out bullshit before it escalates unduly. Rough bars with strong willed staff nip any disrespect in the bud, tell the offender to fuck off, and throw them out if they don’t fall in line immediately.
In this case Chad, the customers, and myself weathered the initial uncivilized volleys of the young man with grace. After all it was a week day, we occasional got such fools, and they’d usually leave after a drink. We’ve all had bad days, many of us have been idiots at bars, and everyone gets a mulligan. Besides, he hadn’t crossed the line yet.
Until of course he did…
I don’t remember how the exchange progressed but I can pinpoint when it passed the point of no return. After a few minutes of being a minor inconvenience the man betrayed his intolerant disposition. It may not surprise you that many young, angry, disenfranchised men, especially when drowning in whiskey, unleash enough racist insults to make a Nazi blush. These are often tolerated if only the bartender or a few customers, who don’t give a shit, overhear them. But when they’re loud, obscene, and overheard by the whole room, they have to be stopped… quickly and decisively.
Having worked as a bouncer Chad could’ve strong armed the guy immediately but since the jackass wasn’t shouting my boss tried talking to him first. He attempted to reason with the man, then argued with him, and finally just told him to stop. But whatever Chad tried the guy just kept spouting out racist shit.
Since we were in Saskatchewan, where our First Nations receive the lion’s share of Canadian racism, they got the worst treatment. The usual charges of them being welfare sponges, criminals, baby machines, and other perverse utterances were unleashed. But then the asshole got louder and said the white race was the only one that created great things, advanced technology, or even superior electronics and automobiles. Obviously, the fool didn’t understand the advanced economies of Japan and Korea, or companies like Toyota and Samsung, but given his bike (which was likely stolen) was a cheap, old, crappy American brand, this wasn’t surprising.
It become unpleasant enough that my friend David, mild-mannered and always affable, spoke up. But after 150 seconds of asking what the guy’s problem was and challenging his ignorant preconceptions he gave up, pounded his drink, and walked out with disgust. By this point I knew the situation wouldn’t be contained in a civilized manner and as I didn’t want to deal with such nonsense on my day off and I didn’t intervene. I knew Brad was strong enough to take care of the situation on his own and hoped by some miracle the asshat would either pass out or just leave. But I remained on high alert in case things got physical and had to jump in.
***
Soon after the young man started lionizing the white race and denigrating the rest Chad decided to act. It started with a last attempt to let the man to save face. Chad printed the check, placed it in front of the offender, and assumed he would get the point and pay. Unfortunately, the little bastard kept extolling the ‘wisdom’ of Mein Kampf to a hostile audience so Chad finally raised his voice and told the guy to leave. But he didn’t yell, threaten him, or say “get the fuck out” (as much as we all wanted him to).
Yet instead of heeding Chad’s final warning the guy uttered another snide remark, laid back on his seat, and cockily took a big swig of his beer.
Big mistake! Chad instantly charged around the bar, grabbed the little shit by his shirt, and pulled him roughly off the stool. Did I mention my boss had been a bouncer? It was incredibly satisfying seeing the jackass stumble backwards, lose his balance, and be momentarily humiliated. On the other hand, I was impressed he managed to prevent his beer mug from falling or its contents spilling onto his upper torso. Say what you want about nasty alcoholics, they know how to safeguard every drop of booze!
Anyway, since Chad had finally resorted (justifiably in everyone’s opinion) to force, I knew the chances for a fistfight had reached the high water mark. So I finally inserted myself into the regrettable situation. Given the fucker had been sitting just next to me I shot up to stand over and flank him on the opposite side of Chad. Not because I thought Chad couldn’t handle him, but as I knew if the little shit realized he’d have to deal with more than one tall, pissed off bartender, he would be less likely to throw punches. But I need not have worried since like most bullies he was a coward (or at least too drunk) to start a fight.
Instead, he merely tried getting a final sip from the glass but Chad wouldn’t even give him that as he yanked the mug from his right hand, grabbed his arm, and ‘gently’ pushed the dickwad in the direction of the front door. As Chad escorted the unruly customer to the door I watched anxiously to see what would happen. Initially, the drunk, obnoxious man complied with my manager’s attempt to eject him from the bar. But as the customer neared the door he turned around, regained his balance, and spoke uncivilized remarks to Chad. Disappointed at this development I cringed as Chad instantly advanced on the jerk to physically remove him from our establishment.
***
In a last ditch attempt to prevent a physical altercation in the pub I shouted to Chad “don’t hit him.” Not because the little prick didn’t deserve it, but because I was aware of potential legal issues, the bar’s reputation, and not least as I thought Brad might kill him. Thankfully though, either Brad pushed him out the front door, or the guy wisely left on his own (I couldn’t see from my vantage point), but he left without a ‘friendly’ punch to the face.
And while he poked his head back in for one last defiant, racist statement, he quickly biked away, in a drunk, clumsy manner, when Chad burst out to chase him. The unfortunate incident was over.
As Chad returned to the bartop and tried cooling off I decided to enact damage control; going from table to table to apologize for the incident and reassure customers this was a one off event (which it would be). But again I need not have bothered as most of the customers were easygoing regulars and tradespeople, who had witnessed their share of volatile situations and violence. So they laughed, thanked me for my consideration, and told me not to worry.
I returned to the bar, collected my thoughts, and gave Chad a moment to regain his composure. Finally, he approached me and said “I hate racist pricks!” After nodding my head, and giving a weak laugh, I told him I was glad he didn’t punch the fucker out. Knowing my near misanthropic disposition and zero tolerance of industry shitheads Chad asked “why?”, in a slightly confused manner.
After a few seconds of contemplation I replied with practical considerations: “It’s my only day off from work and school… I have better things to do then give a statement to the cops and help you mop up some asshole’s blood and teeth.
All Chad could do was smile.