So the other night I went out with some friends. The occasion was that my friend was in town after being away for the past 2 months. All the guys got together and went out to say hello and goodbye before he’s off again. After being at one bar for a while we decided to go to another one because it was open later. I drove my friend and another guy while the others took a separate car and met us there. We arrived first and sat at the end of the bar. I was at the very end. The ambiance of this place was somewhat of an old western bar. You know what I’m talking about. One of those bars where someone comes through the swinging doors and everyone turns and looks at them with their hands on their revolvers. However, picture this whole thing animated and I’m Wilie Coyote. Within 10 minutes, the rest of our party arrived and sat next to us. They ordered food. It was somewhat of a large amount of people so I didn’t really talk to anyone but the 2 people I showed up with for the next 30 minutes or so. The other guys decided to take off. All but one. He moved down to join our conversation. Minutes later…

“WHERE DID YOUR FRIEND GO!? He didn’t PAY for his SHIT!”, shouted the Italian bartender. She stressed words that made no sense. She also had her boobs pushed up to her chin. No neck. Just boobs. Within seconds I was in the middle of a dine and dash disaster. Before I knew it, other employees were surrounding our now party of 3. The one guy who decided to stay looks at her and says, “I didn’t know that guy.” “BULLSHIT”, she screams, “You came in here with them. I watched you sit next to him AND TALK to HIM! You CAME in as ONE party so we PUT it ON one tab. SOME one is paying for this REUBEN! ” A giant ogre like bouncer stood behind me with his arms crossed and simply muttered, “Ruby.” Imagine sloth from The Goonies. Baby Ruth. If you’re still imagining this whole thing animated then the bouncer looks like one of the Monstars from Space Jam. The smooth talking manager approaches and starts to interrogate me. It was a standard good cop (manager), bad cop (bartender) scenario. “Hey buddy. Buddy. Buddy. What do you know about this Reuben?” asks the manager. I immediately got on the defensive. “I didn’t talk to those guys the entire time they were here and I don’t know who the hell ordered the Reuben!” “Whoa, no need to get hostile buddy” said the manager. This went back and forth for the next 5-10 minutes until finally the manager threw his arms in the air, grabbed the receipt and stormed over to the register. He took the Reuben off the tab. Once the nightmare was over and the tab was squared away we got the hell out of there. When we were about 2 blocks from the crime scene, the guy in the backseat said, “That Reuben was delicious.”


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