I walked into an evening shift at my least favourite bartending job. It was past the point I liked the place but I needed the work. At least it gave me structure and decent money. As I entered the mostly empty lounge there was one odd, annoying table that came in often. But they were polite and tipped okay at least. At the bar was Jerry.

Jerry was in his 50s, a former hockey player, and hilarious. He couldn’t hear in one ear, was a loud talker, and completely oblivious to how annoying he could be. The staff didn’t care as he was really nice, overtipped, and we hung out often.

Near the bar was our old female supervisor Richelle and my co-bartender Jaiden. They were alright, I had a mixed relationship with them, but ultimately there was mutual respect. Richelle was old school, slightly cranky, and thought the younger staff were unreliable and entitled… which they were. Jaiden was promiscuous, annoying, and stunk of body odour. But I’ll talk about that another time.

By this point in my career I was cynical enough to focus 95% of my efforts on tips. As I was just walking in I hadn’t taken in my surroundings. Approaching the bar I said “hi Jaiden, hi Richelle, hey Jerry…hello vat of half dead lobsters.” Obviously, the last part is made up, but it was only then I noticed the lobsters Jerry had with him at the bar. I never like how people are okay with lobsters being boiled alive, which is why I never order them.

But here were two captive lobsters, restrained and sitting in ice, in a plastic container on my bartop. I think Jerry bought them at Superstore and even though his house was nearby, he apparently couldn’t miss happy hour and brought them into the lounge. I can’t imagine anyone breaking into a car outside a third rate restaurant to steal lobsters, but there we were!

It would be funny if it weren’t so ridiculous! Apparently, this was completely normal as my colleagues thought nothing of it. Jerry had even NAMED them: Eddie and Freddie, and picked one up and played with its claw, pretending it talked. PETA would’ve had a field day and crucified us!

Unsurprisingly, this nonsense and Jerry’s disturbing behaviour disturbed the odd table in the lounge, that was just 3 meters away. The people kept looking over in confusion and like me probably wondered what the hell was going on? I can’t remember if other customers came into the lounge, let alone sat at the bar as long as Jerry was there. Given his loud voice and antics I suspect not.

Such an… unconventional incident had never happened to me before and has never to happened to me since. But it confirmed to me nothing happens for a reason. Because why would god or some divine power plan for such nonsense?