The Full Moon Strikes Again

The moon is a mysterious entity. It's responsible for the tides, menstrual cycles, werewolves and general insanity.

For long-time readers of this blog you may remember this post, in which I had to put up with a suspiciously increased number of drunks, fights, super-rudeness and swearing during a shift at work when the moon was nigh.

This year was no different. The following things happened:

- Two bar staff mysteriously quit on Friday night so we were understaffed on Saturday night.

- According to the drunk girl I cut off from the bar, I "ruined her night" because "she washhn't ddddjunk k?" Poor diddums. 

- Had to explain to a woman that Coopers Pale Ale was not a dark stout. And neither is Coopers Sparkling.

I believe the key word here is "pale."

- Observed an increase of people milling about aimlessly at the and had the following conversation for every 2nd person I served:

Me: "Hello. What would you like to drink?"

Customer: "...Duuuuhhhh?"

- Not sure if this one is true, but I'm very sure the Mustang Bar caught on fire. I heard a fire alarm (the back of my work is across the road from it) and saw a fire engine parked outside. More alarmingly, heard groups of patrons scream "Woooooo!" Burning to our deaths, how exciting!

- The soft drink guns stopped working so I had to tell people that they couldn't have soft drink for a while. It was fixed within 15 minutes but most people just didn't understand.

Customer: "Can I have a vodka and soda?"

Me: "Sorry, the soft drink guns aren't working."

Customer: "But I want a vodka soda."

Me: "The soft drink guns aren't working. So I can't give you soda."

Customer: "Oh okay, can I have a vodka and coke then?"

- A girl I work with cut off two drunk dudes. One started screaming, "I KNOW YOUR MOTHER AND I AM GOING TO TELL HER" (oh noes). He raised his fist and I ran to get security.

- No less than 5 minutes later, the same girl told a patron to move because a glassy needed to sweep up a broken glass. The patron swore abusively at her. I ran off to the get the security guard again. The angry patron bitch-slapped him furiously. Sigh.

- Was myself very very angry. The peak of my anger hit when a man changed his order 3 times in a very confusing way and still wouldn't tell me how many scotches he wanted altogether. 

He told me to "smile." 

I responded using words that were not very nice. Sorry Mum.

- But despite the existential rage and tiredness building inside me, I got heaps of tips. Just like last year. Weird.