You don’t have to drink alone.
The Yaraka Hotel in Queensland, Australia has banned a popular neighborhood couple from it’s pub. Kevin and Carol, a pair of emus, are no longer welcome due to bad behavior. Among their offenses – stealing food and crapping on the floor.
Having been booted from a couple of establishments back in my hell raising days I have some sympathy for the boisterous birds. Although my transgressions were of a far more ordinary variety, and usually my friend Bob’s fault. Things like openly using illegal substance. And one fun evening when a bar owner threatened to cut us off unless we ate some food and sobered up. After arguing with him we ordered a lousy bar pizza that we didn’t want. And when it arrived proceeded to toss the slices up to the ceiling to see if they would stick. Ahh, good times. Share your best, or worst, bar story.
Have one for Kevin and Carol.
I had to stop drinking when I was 17–I burned hot and bright. So, I don’t have stories of being drunk in a bar. However, when I was in college, I had friends who played in different bands and depending on who was playing where, the rest of us would all go support the band of the evening at the bar of choice. I had a bad habit of opening my mouth at precisely the wrong moment (now I just open my mouth at more-or-less the wrong moment). So, there were times when the friends I was sitting with would have to pre-emptively tell me to shut it before I started another bar fight. Case in point:
We’re in this dive (ultimately, most of the bars my friends played in were dives), watching a bass player friend of ours in this nominally functional blues band. Suddenly, at the table in front of ours, a very, very drunk man jumps up and starts yelling nonsensical drunkspeak at the room. After about 30 seconds of this, he finishes with “any other comments from the peanut gallery?!”
Quick like a rattlesnake, my best friend at the time shot me a look and said, “shut up.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“I know, and I want to keep it that way because I know damned well you were going to say something and I really don’t want to be dragging you out of another bar fight.”
As the only sober person in the bar at least you probably would have won.
oddly enough…ive only ever been barred from 1 pub…and it wasnt a local
some pub in london where me and a couple mates were waiting to see a gig at a nearby venue
anyhoo..i had a backpack full of beer and somehow a beer can kept ending up on the table… no idea how that happened..anyhoo..after about 4 warnings to please stop drinking from the magic beer can i got booted
good thing i still had a backpack full of beer or that would have sucked
I never smuggled my own beer into a bar. But my friend Bob had a habit of getting drunk and lighting joints which got us tossed a couple of times.
Bob is such a kidder!
This reminds me of that old Stephen Wright joke about how he got thrown out of a movie theater for bringing his own food. He said he was willing to share, but they told him that the grill had to go.
Hilarious!
oh wait…. no…i got a please dont ever come back ban and we mean fucking ever at a pub near me mums house
kinda went on a rampage…. had a barbrawl wrecked the place…beat up the poilice car that turned up…eventually got arrested at the other side of the ditch after trying to swim to england as my daring getaway…
got a warning and a fucking huuuuge fine for that one..
i was having some issues at the time
Now that’s a story! I can’t top that.
eh…i wouldnt call it a highlight of my life…
but it is kinda funny now
still cant believe i got away with a warning…small town cops i guess
I know how you feel, I’m not exactly proud of most of my drinking stories. But a lot of them are funny.
We all have that one friend that always gets you in trouble when you go out right? Mine was addicted to getting drunk and doing fireballs in bars. No, not that fireball, I’m talking taking a shot of 151 and spitting it out into a lighter to create a ball of fire in the bar! This got us kicked out of bars in several states (yeah, I was dumb enough to travel with this lunatic because he was an incredible surfer/snowboarder). One night I was getting along very nicely with a young lady when I hear him yelling “I’m going to do a fireball!” Before I could shut this down I see a huge flame and the bouncers running for him. I try to lay low but they knew I was with him and I was quickly also escorted from the bar, never to see said young lady again. Tragically, but not surprisingly, years later he died doing a cannonball off a cliff diving spot. Knocked himself out with his knees and sunk 30 feet down before anyone could get to him. Still think about him all the time and if I could have saved him if I was there. Shit, this story took a bad turn, I’m going to go have a beer!
Oh damn, that’s awful. Have two.
But yes, we all have that one friend. Some of us, more than one. Bob was a wild ass that could not be controlled. Good guy though , he was with me through some tough times.
Age 18 drinking illegally I got so hammered I dropped my car keys in the bar parking lot……and never found them. Like, ever. Spent the night at my buddy’s house and had to go get the spare keys from my dad the following morning. He knew what was up.
Oh yeah, busted. I was hanging out at with some friends at our regular haunt one evening, under age but partying hard. Went up to the bar to order another, bartender hands me a beer and says, “it’s from that older guy at the end of the bar.” I lean back and see my dad. He just sat there drinking his beer, didn’t make a scene or try to blow my cover. But I knew I better get myself home. I drank the beer first, it was already paid for!
As someone who has been in literally thousands of AA meetings over the past 29 years, I have never heard a story like that! I am literally laughing out loud as I type this.
My therapist has said that a couple of times about my stories and he’s worked with substance abuse for years. Like Monopoly games with lines in Free Parking.
Visiting/helping my sister move apts in Boston, proceeded to drink from 2pm on. Mixed bag, mixed bars. Met up with a few of her friends at one place where my sis knew the bouncer. A round of shots of Irish whiskey. Slam it down, and march directly to the mens room, where i yak into the urinal. Mind you, its about 8 or 9 pm, and we were the only people in the place. So, I realize that someone will discover my mess, and freak out. I bolt. And roam around Boston’s north end looking for my sis new place. 2 hrs later, back at her place, drunk dialed her to let her know I was alive. Top 5 worst hangover.
That’s a very funny story.