Well, not to bury the lede, but someone wrote “nig” on our bathroom wall.
White Person: Well how does that make you feel?:
Well, white person, I’m not sure how it makes me feel. First off, I wasn’t even sure it was nig for a hot minute. There I was peeing, like I’m wont to do, and I’m reading something like “Respect my nig, sherearelakreio.” I couldn’t read that last word. Ok, so maybe some ambitious black youth was talking about his boy, sherearelakreio, or whatever. But I’m very anal retentive with our customer base. I take mental notes of every person who walks in there, for the sole purpose of making sure they’re not doing something fucking insane later on. When I went through the mental rolodex, I realized that there hadn’t been a single black person there in the hour and a half that we’re open. There wasn’t even a single person darker than Apricot in that motherfucker. I’m even sure which dude did it, some Glen Burnie douchebags who come here and stir up trouble every month.
So anyway, I got confirmation from one of the regulars that it was indeed “nig,” and not fig, or jig, or something else. I got my marker out and was on the way to take care of it, and he said “no, allow me.” Just when I lost all hope in white people, this guy steps up and takes a stand for civil bathroom rights. All is not lost!
2. How many games in a row do we have to win to get you motherfuckers to come to Camden Yards? Especially when a potential superstar gets called up from minor leagues to bat the game of his life? And yeah, there’s always the potential to lose by six runs, but in the midst of a playoff run, YOU GOTTA BE AT THE YARDS.
3. Someone peed in a trashcan in the bathroom. The veins in my head almost popped out of my skull.
4. Jesus, the conversations! If I hear one more story about beer pong, I’m going to strangle a motherfucker.
On the plus side
HR from Bad Brains rolled by the bar. I missed him, probably because I was cleaning up a bag full of pee pee and scribbling out quasi racist bullshit off my bathroom wall.