Cheap Inbreds There are advantages to a small town. I live in Colorado in a town with only three bars and work at a brew pub that closes earlier than the other bars.
One night I had these two inbreds asking for Bud Lights. (Remember, we are a brewpub, and we don't brew Bud.)
They stayed for a while, until all the stools were up and we were obviously very, very closed. I was polite and nice to them, but when they finally left after we started turning off lights, I was left with a nickel and a shiny dime as tip on roughly $30.
I was pissed, but no biggie; I checked out and went to one of the other bars, where all our servers are respected regulars. Upon entering, who do you think I see at the bar? The two cheap inbreds. SLAP! I throw down fifteen cents on the counter between them and say, "I think one of you dickheads left this on the table." The bartender (a man that I snowboard with twice a week) comes over and asks what I am doing. I tell him the story and order my drink. When he returns he removes the inbreds drinks and states simply, "You guys are done here." Sweet revenge. He goes on to tell me that he has called the last bar with the inbreds' descriptions, and well, he wishes them lots of luck. Small town justice, ya gotta love it.