The Tip Prowler

A couple of months ago, Matthew discovered that The Bank (a local downtown bar) serves $1 pints from four until five o'clock every Friday. Ever since then our clique has made it something of a weekly ritual. We all get off of work and head down to the bar to unwind, usually becoming more than slightly drunken with under ten dollars. I must say, this is the greatest time ever. No matter who happens to show up with Matthew and I on that specific day, we're always in for a blast. The only bad thing about it is a disgustingly heinous bartender who thinks he is the hottest man on Earth. What he lacks in height, he makes up for with the biggest ego I’ve ever seen. I’ve come across many egomaniacs in my day, but this guy really takes the cake.

The worst part about this schmuck is that he’s a major tip stealer. Like previously stated, pints are a dollar. When we first started going to The Bank I would usually buy three or four pints to start off with. This was because it gets extremely busy, especially right before five o’clock when everyone is trying to get their last drink order in. Anyways, I’d give the guy $5 and he would never give me my looney back. I really have no problem with tipping people, but the sheer fact that he didn’t even ask if I wanted my dollar made me fairly annoyed. He did this about five times in total and eventually I started giving him exact change. Surely enough he noticed that I was no longer giving him that extra dollar. He then told me that he was only allowed to give out two drinks per person every time they came up to the bar. This was simply a lie and I know this because not only had we purchased far more than two at a time before, but everyone else who came up to the bar was walking away with more than a couple of pints. I was discontent but didn’t care all that much because at least he wasn’t stealing any more of my cash to use on his greasy hair products and tanning lotion.

The week before last, Dan came with us to The Bank. After being warned about ol’ tip-snatcher, he went to buy himself some pints. The guy gave him the same ‘two per person’ rule because he noticed I was standing nearby. Dan had given him a toonie and a loonie and the guy plopped the extra dollar into the tip jar. Dan was obviously quite annoyed at this and so the next time we went up to the bar for more drinks, Dan actually asked for his change. The guy huffed and puffed and complained that he didn’t have time to get everyone their dollars back, but this time he held out the dollar--quite agonizingly I might add. Holding it between his index finger and thumb, like the nutcase he is, he tried to actually hold onto it while Dan tried to pry it out from his grasp. Dan succeeded at this, and dirty looks were exchanged.

Last week, we managed to find a free table in the basement, so we ended up ordering our drinks from one of the lovely waitresses whom was not a tip robber. Yesterday however, was another story all together. As we approached the bar to purchase our poison, the guy gave Dan yet another stare down. Matthew and I bought our two pints and then Dan ordered his. The bandit bartender noticed that Dan only had a toonie in his hand, and so he made up his next rule, only one pint per person. LAME. Next, he shoves a pint at Daneel and plops the extra dollar into the stolen tip jar. EVEN MORE LAME. Dan now refuses to even purchase our beers from this asshat, and I’m going to have to agree. So all in all, the point is: If you happen to be strolling through downtown Edmonton and you end up at The Bank--punch the grotesque ninny in the head at least five times for me. Thanks!

Cheers to hard-earned dollars, and pints that cost no more than that!

Tunes: Atmosphere - Don't Ever Fucking Question That