As most of you will realise this job is not just about being a publican, there is a fair dose of care in the community performed for free.Last night I had to deal with a man espousing the genius of Hitler in an attempt to generate conversation, I would have gone for weather as an ice breaker but maybe that’s why I am single I just can’t start a decent conversation!
So this week has brought a guy who randomly, when left alone, shouts out praise for the little German fella with the weird moustache despite the fact that he proudly wears a star of David around his neck. I have a term for these people they are ‘space invaders’ because that is what they do, they invade people’s personal space and conversations. I like to think that I am relatively tolerant and I will keep telling people to keep it down or to keep their opinions to themselves but this week will see two people leave the pub because, simply, they do not have the basic social skills needed for this environment.
The first is the loony shouting man who I have just run out of patience with. Every time he apologises or seems sensible you serve him a half and he degrades into idiocy. There is nothing particularly wrong or rude about him (excluding the Hitler comments) but he is an annoyance and a source of irritation for the rest of my customers. In this instance the next apology will be the last.
The second loss is one that has only been in the pub once and may also lack some of the cans required to make up a six-pack. This guy was as far left-wing as one could get, I know it’s a shame he didn’t meet the Germans fan, and chose also to randomly shout in to other people’s conversations. The reason that this one does not get the opportunity to apologise is what I learnt after he had left. I should set the scene now in the fact that when this chap left the pub, of his own choice, the only people on the premises were myself and an old couple.
Before leaving the loon had messaged his friend/carer to say that he was going to leave soon or he would get beaten up. Obviously I knew nothing of this and watched him merrily stride down the drive and up the road with not a mention of concern for his own safety. When the friend contacted me later that evening to assert that her friend had been followed from the pub and assaulted she went so far as to send me his message alleging that the landlord had ‘ushered me out and smirked as I was roughed up’. At this point it was clear to me that somebody didn’t have the full lunch in his picnic basket and I suggested as much to the friend.
In order to allay any further fears I pointed out that the only person left in the pub when this guy left was a pensioner and he remained on the premises for another hour and a half. I will of course check said person for evidence of some random flash violence but given the sprightly pace the ‘victim’ made I find it highly implausible that they would have even passed in the street. Obviously I cannot be wasting my time dealing with insane allegations made against the business so this is another gentleman who will not be sampling any more of my beer. Another task added to the landlord’s list is ascertaining whether a person has the social and mental ability not only to spend time in a public place but also not to present an unnecessary burden to the business.
In other news it is most definitely seagull season, the delightful flying vermin that they are. Not only are seagulls noisy horrible creatures but they have a sex life that would have been the envy of Hugh Hefner. The valley that runs alongside my bedroom roof and the flat roof outside of my bedroom are being used as the set of some type of seagull porn movie and the cameras roll from 4 am. I have two teenage children and never thought that at this age I would be banging on the window telling seagulls to ‘keep it down’.
As a single man I should also say that I am gradually learning the language of seagulls and can now fluently translate ‘I’m getting it and you aren’t’ from the screeches that the gulls emit as they fly off. Yet another of Ms Nature’s minions that I don’t get along with, damn her!
sound like Kent all over again 🙂