When Keeping it Real Goes Wrong

- 11/15:  Nothing to see here, just a hungover bartender.

- 11/16:  Wow, this night.  And so it begins.

It's late, about midnight, I have some friends sitting at the bar, and we're all just having a good time.  I see a lady walk in that I have recognized from before.  Sketchy does not even begin to cover it; she looks like she showed up to the five o' clock free crack giveaway, but instead of an intervention, there actually was crack.  I notice that she sits on the couch closest to the bar, the same couch I passed out on two nights ago.  To her credit, that couch is comfortable as hell.

While keeping a close eye on her, she doesn't do anything for about fifteen minutes.  That's when Hilary walked up:

H:  "Um, did she just drink my water out of my to-go cup?"
Me:  "Wait, that was your cup?"
H:  "GROSS!  GROSS!  EW!  OH GOD!"

Hilary is awesome, and yes, this crackhead just drank her water.  Needless to say, at this point, she has more of my attention than I cared to give.  About ten minutes pass when I notice her pouring something into the to-go cup.  My owner had left his full soup bowl on the table as he was schmoozing with some people at the bar.  His soup was now in the to-go cup that the crackhead was holding.  Oh hell no.  I immediately snatch the cup out of her hands and have the ensuing conversation:

Me:  "That's not yours."
CH:  "I know."
Me:  "You need to leave."
CH:  "What do you mean I need to leave?  I'm waiting on JC."
Me:  "I don't care who JC is, and you can wait for him outside."
CH:  "Why do I have to leave?"
Me:  "Because you just tried to steal someone's soup?"

After this, it got ugly.  Real ugly.  Throwing out the race card too soon ugly.

"My daddy white, bitch, he fucked a nigga, had me."
"I stay across the street, a transition house fo' gay folks like yo dick in the booty ass."  [My personal favorite.  How did she know I was a 36 Mafia fan?!]
"Fuck you white boy, suck my dick white boy!"

I had not realized I was bartending with a pillow case over my head with eye-holes cut out.  Most of these were yelled at me through our patio window, which brings me to my next point kids:  Don't.  Smoke.  Crack.