Tuesday, November 8, 2011

An Eastern European bartender's stories about stealing crap (1 of 3): Takeout.

Now that I've been to 341 bars in 241 days, I find myself getting jaded about certain things, like Euro cafes with espresso machines and liquor; they have to be damn good for me to take notice.

A good one the other day had this wonderful Eastern European blonde bartender (not sure what ethnicity; I don't ask anymore, I'm fine with the mystery; she had bleached blonde stringy hair with brown showing underneath, and was mildly tan, and had high cheekbones and soft eyes), and we somehow got on the topic of stories about stealing shit.

She was telling me about how her bike was stolen from right in front of the 24-hour restaurant where she worked after it was locked out there three days, even though it had a u-bolt and everything.

She also said that once this woman parked outside, came to the counter to pay and pick up her takeout, and even though she had exact change and wasn't in there more than 30 seconds - the counter was right by the restaurant door entrance! - her car was gone from right outfront when she turned around...

She had left her keys in it.

Luckily, her boyfriend's relative was in the police department, so they got 5-6 cars to the area right away, though the bartender said she never did find out if she got her car back.

No comments: