It’s Story Time

This kind of reminded me of an incident from my years of work in the service industry. I used to work in a clam bar of Nathan’s Famous at Coney Island. I never sold hot dogs, opening clams was my specialty.

Anyway, this really drunk guy gets upset over the cost of a half dozen of clams (something to the tune of 12 bucks). But he still wants them. And here’s the twist – he wants them unopened. After asking the manager if it’s ok, I hand over six closed clams. The dude takes a huge Bowie knife and proceeds to try to open them. Of course, he fails at opening even a single one. He puts the knife back in his pocket and lets me open the damn clams for him.

Another time I learned why pint jars with condiments were to be kept behind the counter. I, seeking to improve usability, put them on the counter during my shift, so that the patrons would not have to ask for them. When I looked away, two bums got into an argument and one of them proceeded to throw a jar full of horseradish sauce and a jar full of cocktail sauce at the other.

Now here’s another one from my years as a doorman/porter in a Manhattan building. During one of my night shifts somebody stole a huge (probably two meters tall) potted pine. The pine in question was in a heavy bucket that was chained to the wall. That asshole uprooted the whole thing and dragged the tree for at least ten blocks leaving a trail of dirt. The pine was not recovered. I locked the door and was cleaning the lobby at the time, so nobody really blamed me.