1/4/2012
Well, if this is how those ‘brony’ freaks act in their everyday life, I can see why they have such an awful reputation. I get plenty of tourists coming through looking for a drink, and they’re not all the best customers, if you know what I mean. A bunch of ‘em can get kinda loud, but that’s fine. Got nothing against people blowing off a little steam on vacation. But this Russell guy wasn’t like that. Comes in fifteen minutes to closing covered in dirt, sweat, and mud. So I try to strike up a conversation, and he just looks up and stares. Doesn’t say a word, just stares. Then he put a hundred dollar bill on the counter and motions for the bottle. Takes a bottle of ten-year-old scotch and just starts going at it, muttering to himself between sips. Now, I’ll ‘forget’ to check the clock for a couple minutes if my customers are having a good time and don’t want to leave right at closing, but this guy didn’t give me the chance. Real nervous and jumpy, and when the ol’ grandfather clock started to strike midnight he practically jumped off his stool and bolted for the door.
What a weirdo.